Ever After Again
by rosemusic20
Summary: In Camelot, Guinevere struggles to fulfill her duties to the kingdom while coping with grief. In modern day London, an ordinary woman's life will be forever changed when she is recognized on the street by a mysterious old man. This story will bounce back and forth between the time following the fall of King Arthur and the time in which it appears he may have returned. Gwen POV.
1. Chapter 1- New Beginnings

_**Hello people. So, I made a wonderfully fantastic mistake. I watched Merlin. Like all of it. Over the course of 5 days. Oops. It was so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so good and i love it with a passion. The end of it had me sobbing like such a baby and I could not handle it at all so here I am. Fanfiction is my way of continuing the story and making myself feel better emotionally. While the show was ended with absolute brilliance and I can't complain about quality, my heart may never recover. This is my attempt to recover.**_

**_This is my very firstest Merlin fanfiction so woohoo! That's exciting!_**

**_I am new to this fandom and want to do it justice so please honor me with your feedback and suggestions._**

**_This is a story that bounces back and forth between the time directly following Arthur's death and London in 2012. It will probably primarily follow Guinevere's journey in both, however, it will be charged with some serious merlin-arthur feels in later chapters. I hope you enjoy this._**

**Ever After Again**

**Camelot – Sometime around 500 AD**

_The king is dead, long live the queen!_

The words bounced around in her head as Guinevere took her seat at the round table, staring vaguely into the distance, gripping the sides of the chair for support.

_The king is dead._

Three days. It had been three days since her coronation. Ceremonies, banquets and tournaments had been held in her honor, as if somehow the celebration would mask the tragedy of a king lost in battle. Still, her heart continued to pound so painfully in her chest that she couldn't sleep at night or concentrate during the day.

She shifted her feet uncomfortably under the table, suddenly aware of the eyes searching her. She would have hoped to be used to it by now, having been queen for some time, but this was different. She was surrounded on all sides by them, the men whose trust her husband had earned. In his absence they now turned to her.

No longer could she look to Arthur for guidance, for a shoulder to lean on, to cry on. How unlucky it was that the one person whose support she needed most desperately to soothe her grief was the person she had lost.

As the room once again came into focus, Guinevere mumbled the necessary words that would commence the meeting. Her knuckles were white from the strength with which she was clutching the sides of her chair, the chair that had once been his, that should still be his.

_Dead._

Weeks had crawled by, as she had been waiting patiently for news of her husband's return. The pile of unsigned papers had piled up. When a month had passed with no word from them, even with search parties venturing far beyond the lines of Albion, Arthur was declared dead. Any hope that the king might have somehow survived had been pushed to the back of her mind as the weight of the crown sunk into her hair.

Camelot had been the center of a peaceful nation, even as they had all been in the dark about whether or not Arthur would return. Now that she had risen, or in her mind fallen, to the thrown out of necessity, other leaders were beginning to question whether Camelot was still a worthy ally.

Now she sat, listening to the knights around her argue on which of Camelot's borders were most in need of protection.

"We should double guards and secure the inner circle and the castle from intruders." Sir Leon stated. "There is no telling who may be plotting against the queen. Without the protection of Arthur as a symbol of strength, Camelot looks weak."

She looked at the knight in alarm at his suggestion, then noticed others around the table nodding in agreement.

"I won't have myself being cut off from the lower town and the surrounding villages because of threat's we don't even know exist." Guinevere finally forced herself to join the discussion. "Besides, hiding from our problems won't make them go away it will just make our unknown enemies feel even more confident."

"But surely you understand, you are Camelot's only ruler and need to be protected." Percival argued.

"I am a queen not a china doll." She replied, feeling anger bubble up inside her. Everyone had been treating her like she was some sort of commodity. She was seen as invaluable at least, but was none-the-less objectified constantly and was on the verge of exploding from all the people breathing down her neck.

She had put up with the insanity of being queen for Arthur's sake, because she loved him so dearly that she had been willing to withstand anything, but she found herself lost without him at her side. She knew that the precautions were necessary but she would not allow her protection to come at the expense of the citizens of Camelot.

She realized that her outburst had caused a most of the table to squirm uncomfortably and was about to apologize when the scrapping of wood on the floor caught her attention and she turned her attention the knight who was now addressing her.

"Permission to make a suggestion, your majesty." He asked, his deep brown eyes peering into hers with curiosity. He ran a hand over his slicked back hair, which was dark to match his eyes but sprinkled with gray.

She furrowed her eyebrow. It was not typical for the knights to ask her for permission to speak. She shrugged and nodded. "Permission granted, Sir…" She hesitated, unable to assign a name to this man's face, squinting at his light mustache and confident gaze.

"Sir Maleagant." He smiled gently at her, then addressed the entire room. "While the possibility of Her Majesty appearing weak to both our allies and enemies in inevitable now that Arthur has passed."

"King Arthur may he rest in peace." Everyone spoke in unison, as they always did when the late king was mention.

Maleagant coughed and continued. "Yes, it cannot be denied that Camelot is in a fragile state in the eyes of others. However, I believe that there may be other ways of illustrating strength that do not require acts of defense that may endanger citizens."

Guinevere nodded slowly in agreement.

"There are peaceful, non-militaristic ways to address this problem, which I believe would be supported fully by the king, if he were able to give input."

"King Arthur may he rest in peace."

She swallowed hard as the voices chorused around her in honor of Arthur.

"And what solution would that propose, Sir Maleagant?" Questioned Percival skeptically.

"Ah," The other knight bowed his head knowingly, then looked up to meet the queen's eyes, clasping his hands in front of him. "It is no secret that Camelot is without an heir."

The queen tilted her head to the side and raised an eyebrow curiously, unsure of where this was heading.

"And her majesty is without a husband."

Now, as she was starting to realize where Maleagant was going with this, she opened her mouth to say something but closed it, doing her best to keep an open mind.

"Perhaps, if there were to be a king, Camelot would not look so weak in the eyes of others." The man bit his lips, obviously aware of the weight in the words he had just spoken.

Her eyes widened in shock. There was a brief stunned silence as the entire table processed Maleagant's words.

Guinevere blinked a few times, her eyes blurring over. "Are you suggesting that I remarry?" She asked, her heart beat suddenly beginning to pound in her ears again. She felt as if the temperature in the room had suddenly skyrocketed as sweat collected on her forehead and her hands resumed their tight hold on the seat beneath her.

"For the sake of Camelot's security, I am proposing that you seek bondage with a worthy, well connected man in order to secure the safety of yourself and your people." Maleagent frowned, trying to salvage the bluntness of his early suggestion.

She tried not to hyperventilate, breathing slowly through her nose as her vision blurred in and out and the room began to spin. It was too soon, wasn't it? Maybe Camelot needed a new king, but she was far from ready to find a new husband.

"Your majesty, are you quite well?" Sir Leon asked.

"Yes, I'm fine." She lied, steadying herself and looking up from the spot she had been staring at on the table.

"Perhaps, Sir Maleagant has a point." Leon tread carefully, cautious not to disturb her even more. "Marriage would both secure Camelot's short term safety and allow for long term security in the form of an heir."

She clenched her teeth and lost feeling in her fingers from gripping the chair with so much force.

"Yes!" Another voice chimed in. "You could even marry another Pendragon in order to continue in the royal bloodline."

The queen's jaw dropped and she felt and vile taste in the back of her throat. She thought she might vomit, when the door swung open and in burst the closest thing to the person she wanted most to see.

"Merlin!" She gasped.

**London – Fall 2012**

_Beep beep beep._

A woman groaned and rolled over in her bed, reaching towards her bedside table for the alarm clock.

_Beep beep._

She swatted around blindly several times before giving up, lifting her head and forcing her eyes open.

_4:00_

The flashing light on the clock seemed to poke her eyes with its brightness. She pushed herself up in bed and ran a hand through her messy hair, which, to her dismay, was flying out in all directions. She pushed the covers off of her bare legs and shivered as the cold air washed over them.

_Beep beep._

She noted that, with the changing weather, she should stop wearing shorts to bed. Climbing out of bed, she yawned and stretched, releasing any tension or aches she had developed in her sleep.

_Beep bee-._

Finally, she clapped a hand over the clock and it silenced. She sighed at the thought of another day ahead of her, her eyes rolling up to look in the mirror above her bed and her hand immediately going again to her hair. The curls, though she loved them, had burdened her since what felt like the dawn of time with their unruly behavior.

Her room came into full focus around her as she stumbled over to the shower.

Upon emerging, dripping wet, but much more awake then when she had first risen, she brushed a comb through the curls, watching them slowly take a much more manageable form. Wiping a whole in the steam that had covered her bathroom mirror and running a finger over the dark circles under her eyes, she shrugged and left the bathroom.

A heavy snoring through the thin walls told her that her brother was still asleep in the room next door. She shook her head and finished drying off before, yawning yet again and slumping slowly over to her closet. Dressing for work was not exciting for her, in nothing but a plain white button down underneath a black suit.

She put on light makeup, pulled her hair back with a simple clip, then stepped back and looked at herself in the mirror, forcing a smile. She brushed one of the flyaway curls over her ear and let out a breath.

She glanced at the clock.

_4:45_

Time to go. She grabbed her briefcase, off the floor by the door and walked out into the kitchen area, where her brother was still snoring peacefully on the couch.

So maybe it was sort of a kitchen, living room, all-in-one area.

She smiled lightly as he rolled over and his face was smashed humorously against the pillow. Tiptoeing over to him, so as not to disturb his sleep, she bend over and pulled his blanket up a little higher so that it covered his bare chest. Like brother like sister, she supposed, chuckling at his lack of weather appropriate sleepwear.

She kissed his forehead and maneuvered over the stacks of magazines, books, sheet music and other papers that surrounded the couch. She had been happy to take in her starving artist of a brother but couldn't help being slightly irked by what a complete slop he was. She would have to have a talk with him about that.

After gently closing and locking the door behind her, she frowned at the perpetually broken elevator and proceeded to walk down eight flights of stairs. Stepping outside, she glanced up at the sky which was dark with potential rain clouds. She briefly considered going back up to grab and umbrella but with a quick glance at her phone that told her the time was now 5:00, she decided against in and took off down the street.

Her early morning activities had become a sort of ritual to her. She had chosen her apartment in the center of London, despite its many flaws, in order to be closer to her work. Each day, she would walk four blocks, stop and get two cups coffee at her favorite stand, one for her and one for her boss, then walk the next three blocks to the tower building of her office.

Today was just like any other day. She left the coffee stand with the steaming cups in her hand and a smile on her face. She gave hers a suitable amount of time to cool before taking a sip and basking in the strong flavor. She stopped momentarily and balanced both mugs in the crook of her arm at the same time so that she could check the time on her phone and nod over the fact that she was five minutes ahead of schedule. She even had a minute to scroll through her emails and texts before resuming her walk to work.

She giggled a somewhat inappropriate text she had received from her boyfriend, apparently after she had gone to bed last night. When she looked up from her phone, something caught her eye, or rather it appeared she had caught someone's eye. An elderly man with long straight white hair and a beard that if he hadn't been so skinny would have made him look exactly like Santa Clause, stood across the street from her. He was gazing at her, his eyes shining, his eyebrow raised in what could only be disbelieve.

She cocked her head to the side and he mirrored her movement. Tilting her head to the other side, she watched as he copied her again. She scratched her head, and he did the same. What on earth was this man doing? She averted her gaze and began walking in her usual direction, only to hear someone behind her shouting.

"Wait!" The voice cried.

She whipped around briefly to see the man rushing across the street, paying no attention to the oncoming traffic. As he neared her, she could make out his face more clearly, his light blue eyes, and she noticed his grey hat and puffy coat were very indicative of a homeless man.

She didn't have time for this. She was about to turn and walk away when she saw great big truck thundering down the road, a vehicle that the old man was completely oblivious to.

"Look out!" She shouted, just in time for the man to turn and see the truck speeding towards him.

She watched his eyebrow raise, not in fear, but in confusion. The truck was so close now, it was going to hit him if he didn't move. She wasn't really sure what came over her, but before she knew it she found herself in the middle of the road as well, her hands pushing the elder out of the way with out hesitation. It all happened so fast. She looked up and saw the head of the vehicle still flying towards her. She shut her eyes and squeezed her fists, preparing for what she knew was coming.

But nothing happened, no blaring horns assaulted her ears, no metal ton clashed into her in a fatal collision. She opened her eyes and saw that the truck had somehow magically stopped some distance away, though she swore she remembered it being only inches from impact. She suddenly felt dizzy. She had just thrown herself in front of a moving vehicle to save a stranger. She almost collapsed when to hands grabbed her and ushered her to the sidewalk. She looked up and saw the mans face.

"I-. I-. It's really you isn't it." He uttered in disbelief, reaching out his hands to touch her face.

She wiggled away from him and picked up her briefcase, scoffing at the coffee now splattered across the pavement. "What do you mean?" She asked, completely confused.

"I can't believe it. I can't believe I found you." A bright smile spread across his features. "It's been so long."

Her eyes widened ever more, this time fear mixing in with her confusion.

His hand grabbed hers forcefully. "Gwen."

**_There you have it. Please review review review so that I can know know know how I did did did. I won't continue this story unless I get feedback because if I don't how will I know if people actually like it. :D Yay! _**

**_Gah, I am still not over the ending. Every time I think about it I start crying. Right now for example, I thought of the ending and tears literally started rolling down my cheeks. _****_Only a show like Merlin could make me so completely willing to be in this much pain over a series finale._**

**_Anywho, THANKYOU!_**

**_^No that just made me think of Arthur's last words. Damn it!_**


	2. Chapter 2- Reunion

**_Chapter 2 has arrived._**

**_To answer the inquiries on whether or not this is an Arthur/Gwen story: Yes. However, the Camelot part of the story takes place after Arthur has died, and the London part is really about Merlin's discovery of the return of Arthur and what he does with that information so it will probably focus more on that then the romance. It may end up focusing _**

**_This chapter sees Merlin and Guinevere's reunion and introduces some of our favorite characters in the modern world._**

**C****amelot – Sometime around 500 AD**

"Merlin!" She gasped.

He stood in the door way, he clothes in shambles, torn and ripped in more place than could be counted, his face smudged with dirt and smeared with sweat. As everyone twisted in their seats to look at him, he stared at her with wide eyes.

The entire party, including Guinevere, gaped in silent amazement at the young man before them. She had never expected to lay eyes on him again. She thought she had lost a friend as well as a love.

"I'm back." He said, staring straight at her, his normally light mischievous eyes darkened and worn from his travels. She could tell by looking at him that he had changed. He was no longer that naïve boy she had met all those years ago, or the optimistic friend she had come to care so deeply for.

Or perhaps it was her knowledge of him that had changed. Knowing that he was a warlock changed him in her eyes. He was powerful, more powerful than she could have ever imagined.

A thought crossed her mind, and with it a glimmer of hope fluttered in her stomach. Merlin had been with Arthur. If Merlin was back, maybe her king was with him.

She didn't need to speak it out loud. She could feel him gazing into her eyes and reading her thoughts, her soul. The former servant shook his head. "I-. I-." He breathed, stuttering over the words. "I need to talk to you privately." He managed.

"Very well." The queen managed. "This meeting of the knights of the round table is now adjourned." She turned to her servant. "Go and fetch Gaius, tell him to report to me immediately. And get Merlin a glass of water while you're at it. Please."

"Yes your majesty." The woman bowed low to her and scurried off along with the rest of the knights.

Guinevere watched as she disappeared, shutting the door behind her. She glanced up at Merlin. "Sometimes I still feel strange ordering people around.

Merlin chuckled, but his expression remained somber.

"What is it Merlin?" She stood up and walked over to her friend.

Merlin said nothing. She looked him up and down, noticing his clenched fists and shaking limbs.

"Merlin, what is it?" She prodded.

He still seemed unable to form the words to respond to her. He merely trembled under his own weight in a way that made him look like a small child. As soon as she saw a solitary tear escape over his bottom eyelid, Guinevere wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close.

"I tried, Gwen." Merlin began, his voice breaking and echoing of the walls of the now empty room. "I tried to save him, I really did. There was nothing I could do, he-." He let out a strangled sob and his whole body shook in her embrace. "He's gone."

Her own eyes stung with tears as she gripped him even closer.

"I'm so sorry, Gwen." He whispered, his voice muffled by the fabric of her dress.

She practically choked on her own words. "It's not your fault, Merlin." She replied softly, squeezing him tighter as if doing so would somehow alleviate the dizziness that was now overcoming her yet again. "None of this is your fault."

"No you don't understand, Gwen, I could have saved him. There was a way to save him." He pulled away from her and stared at her with bloodshot eyes. "If I had just been a bit faster. If I hadn't let him stop and rest. If we hadn't spent so much time talking I could have saved him."

"His injury was beyond cure, Gaius told me." The queen tried to assure him.

He shook his head. "Not for me. Not for my-. Gwen there is something I haven't told you."

"I know you're a warlock, Merlin." She blurted before he could confess.

His eyes widened in amazement. "And you don't fear me?" He asked immediately.

It was a realistic question. As a citizen from Camelot, she had been conditioned all her life to fear magic, but this was her friend. Merlin was the most generous and loyal person she knew. "I could never fear you, Merlin. I would never cast you aside because you're different."

"Arthur did." Merlin muttered.

"He what?" She furrowed an eyebrow.

"Never mind." The young warlock dismissed her question. "The point is that if I hadn't been such a sluggish slow poke, Arthur might be here right now." She watched his clench his jaw in anger at himself.

"Calm down." She ran her hand gently through his hair to soothe him, but she could feel her arm trembling. She really didn't feel well. "Even magic can't fix everything." She was as much trying to calm herself as she was him.

His shoulders slumped and he felt once again into her arms, shaking with his quiet sobs.

Gaius arrived shortly after, peering cautiously through the door before rushing over and encasing the boy in an unmatchable hug. "What happened my boy? We thought you were gone." Gaius asked, tightening his grip around Merlin.

"I lost him." The wizard said in defeat, peering over Gaius' shoulder at Guinevere who now felt as if she were intruding on a private moment between father and son. "I didn't make it to Avalon in time."

"What about Morgana?" Guinevere suddenly asked. "She tortured Gwaine into telling her where you two had gone. Did she ever find you?"

"She's dead." Merlin stated. "I… I killed her."

"There." Gaius pulled away and looked Merlin in the eyes. "You see. You succeeded in riding the world of a great evil."

"But I didn't-."

"Merlin, you've done enough." The queen cut in, her dizziness having fully subsided. "I'm confident you have saved Arthur more times than you can count. You will be honored for that."

"But I failed when it truly matter-."

"You will be honored for your loyal service to Arthur and to Camelot. There is nothing you can say to change my mind." She wanted so badly to cheer the young man up. Maybe, if he could find the light at the end of the tunnel then so could she.

"How?" Merlin asked. "All those times I rescued him I used magic. Won't I be executed if anyone finds out?"

"You're forgetting that Gwen is the queen now." Gaius interjected.

"I intend to abolish the laws against magic as soon as I have the chance and once I do you will be thanked for all you have done." The words that left her mouth felt so rehearsed. She wanted to mean them, she truly did. But how could she when her mind was all but consumed with thoughts of Arthur and the future of Camelot.

She seemed unable to rid the past from her mind, yet her obligation as queen required that she let go of it and do what was necessary for the kingdom.

**London – fall 2012**

"Gwen."

Gwen's eyes widened and her briefcase fell to the floor. "How do you know my name?" She asked, fear consuming her. "I don't know you." She backed away.

He reached towards her again and she swatted his hand away. He grinned. "You haven't changed at all. Where's Arthur?"

"What do you mean 'where's Arthur?'?" She searched around for an escape route. "I don't know what you're talking about. I think you've made some kind of mistake." She whirled around and took off running, fast enough that she knew someone of his age wouldn't be able to keep up with her.

"Gwen, don't go!" She heard him shout. This time, though she didn't turn around she just kept running.

She ran the remaining two blocks between where she had been and her office and burst through the revolving door, panting heavily. She leaned over and sighed, glancing briefly behind her to see that she had not been followed. She then proceeded to the elevator, waving her employee ID at the man at the front desk as she walked by.

In the elevator, she glanced again at her phone which told her the time was 5:35. Great. She was going to be five minutes late and coffeeless this morning. She stepped out of the elevator when she reached the twelfth floor and walked swiftly down the rows of cubicles until she reached her own. She tossed her briefcase on the floor by her desk and sat down in her seat.

As if on cue, the moment she had made herself comfortable, a loud voice rang out from the office nearest to her cubicle.

"Gwen!" The voice demanded.

Gwen pushed herself out of her chair, grabbing her clipboard and pen from her desk, and scurrying into her boss's office.

"Good Morning, Morgan." She smiled eagerly. As much as this woman tended drive her crazy, Gwen's job as her secretary was about as close as she could get to editor for only having been working here for a few months. Because she felt extremely lucky, the young woman was always excited to please her boss.

Morgan, however, seemed significantly less eager to see her assistant. Immediately, Gwen glanced in the glass that surrounded the office and saw vaguely that her reflection betrayed her cheery demeanor. Her tousled hair and the coffee stain on her sleeve depicted her strange and unusual morning, when she had hoped she could forget about that and move on with the day.

"Where's my coffee?" Morgan asked briskly, obviously choosing to ignore her secretary's disheveled appearance. The young woman, just barely older then Gwen, was sitting cross legged in her tall black swirly chair. Her long dark brown hair looked almost black in the dim light of the office, and her blue eyes were peering at Gwen with recognizable dissatisfaction. It was almost frightening.

Gwen swallowed. "Well, funny story about that…" She began meekly, twisting her hands together and biting her lip.

"I don't particularly care for story's Gwen, I prefer it when you do your job properly." Morgan stopped her abruptly, turning back to the paperwork on her desk.

"I almost got hit by a truck this morning." Gwen said quickly.

That got the other woman's attention. Morgan lifted her head and one of her eyebrows. "You almost got hit by a truck?" She questioned in disbelief. "You?"

Gwen nodded quickly. "I mean, there was this old man chasing after me and he was standing in the middle of the street yelling at me and I turned around and he was standing there and a truck was coming so I just sort of-."

"Listen Gwen, I can see you've had a troubling morning." Morgan cut her off again, offering her an unusually warm smile. "Would you like to take the rest of the day off?"

"Oh no, no, no, _no_." Gwen replied hurriedly. Obviously, she was giving the wrong impression about her morning. Sure, it may have been a bit jarring but it was no reason to miss work and ruin her perfect attendance record. "I'm in perfectly good condition to work."

The smile immediately turned cold again and Morgan smacked her lips together. "Very well then. I have a list of things for you to get done before you take your lunch." She reached into one of the drawers of her desk and pulled out a paper ripped from a yellow legal pad and handed it to Gwen over her desk.

It was filled top to bottom with tasks – people to call, emails to forward, announcements to type up. Gwen sighed, and turned to leave the room, her eyes glued to the paper in front of her.

"Wait, Gwen," Morgan called. "Could you also go check on Arthur?"

"Arthur?" Gwen furrowed an eyebrow unhappily. "Really Morgan? Why?"

"His assistant just got demoted and they haven't found anyone to replace her yet." Morgan answered. "When he found himself short a man, he specifically requested you."

"He doesn't even know me." Gwen commented, rolling her eyes in a way she knew her boss wouldn't see. It was true, she knew nothing about the man, sans the conceited sounding emails that he sent out to everyone on a daily basis and stories from Morgan.

"I boast often about your abilities and your quickness to learn when I see Arthur outside of work." Morgan continued. "He actually tried to get you permanently but I wasn't about to let you go so easily. So you'll be working for both of us for the week."

"For the week?" Gwen gasped. "That's going to be double the load for me, I have enough to do as it is."

Morgan gaped at her. "I thought you'd be happy about this. This could be your chance to earn that promotion that I know you've been wanting so badly."

"I never said anything about-."

"Oh come on, everyone here wants to be an editor, and you're no exception." Morgan scoffed. "Anyway, that's enough chatting. Go upstairs and see if Arthur needs anything today."

Gwen sighed, left the office and headed over to the elevator. Before she could reach it however, she heard another shout from behind her.

"Gwen."

She spun around, hands on her hips, and groaned.

Morgan had stuck her head out of her office door, her long brown hair falling slightly two the side as she leaned. "Can you go down and get me some coffee while you're at it?"

Gwen gave her a thumbs up and Morgan disappeared once again into her office.

-o-

The elevator dinged and Gwen emerged on the fifteenth floor, the highest in the building. She had never been up here before, granted she had only worked at The Pendragon for two months and had been practically chained to Morgan's desk since her promotion a week in. Still, this floor was a whole new world to her.

It was not filled with cubicles like on her floor. The first thing she noticed was a glass room in the center of the floor that inside had a large round conference table. The room was empty at the moment but it looked quite nice and comfortable, with soft plush chairs, unlike the plastic ones in her cubicle.

She glanced around again and saw that the outer walls of the floor were lined with offices that had solid walls for privacy but that one end of the hall was made completely of glass, allowing the barely risen sun to bleed through ever so slightly.

She jumped when a man in a suit burst from his office, brushed swiftly past her and knocked hurriedly on one of the other doors.

When another man emerged the two fell into deep conversation over the paper in the first man's hand.

Gwen gathered all her courage and walked over to the two men, coughing slightly to get their attention. They turned to her, furrowing their brows in confusion and slight annoyance.

"I'm looking for Arthur Pendragon." She said in the most confident voice she could muster.

"His office is right down there." The taller of the two men, who Gwen now noticed was extremely tall and looming over her in a somewhat nerve wracking manner, spoke up and pointed to the door on the other end of the hall.

She slowly made her way down to where the man had been pointing. She turned back to ask if she was in the right place, but the two men had disappeared into one of the rooms.

She stared at the door ahead of her, frowning nervously, and knocked.

No one answered. She knocked again and heard a muffled "Come in." from the other side.

She opened the door slowly, careful not to disturb the man on the other side. When she entered the room, she found herself in shock for the second time since she had arrived at work this morning by its unusual appearance.

The room was covered with posters and articles, but not just motivation posters and framed articles published in _The Pendragon_. There were also brightly colored movie and band posters cluttering the walls, articles from space and sport magazines placed next to certificates of achievement.

Gwen tried not to laugh at how starkly different this was from Morgan's office, which was plain and undecorated.

At the other side of the room, in front of one of the large windows, stood a tall man with shaggy hair. His back was to her, and the sun was shining in such a way that she could really only make out the silhouette of his body – his broad shoulders and long arms, one of which was propping him up against the wall as he gazed out the window.

She was too dumfounded to speak, so she just stood there, staring at his back, unsure of what to say or do. She watched him intently – he was standing completely still, just thinking, not tapping his foot or fidgeting.

She stared at him for what felt like a while, unsure of whether she should make herself known. She tightened her hold on her clipboard and was about to open mouth when the man in front of her spoke.

"Freedom lies in being bold." He muttered randomly.

Gwen thought for a moment he might be on the phone but then saw that the hand that wasn't resting on the side of the window was tucked in his pocket.

"Whatever you are, be a good one." He was speaking so quietly, she wondered if she knew she was there.

She bit her lip, still weary of disturbing him.

"Every man is guilty of all the good he did not do." He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "What do you think?" He asked.

Gwen's mouth felt fall open. Was he talking to her? She had been standing there in silence for at least a minute, and he had known she was there the whole time and not said anything?

"What do you think?" He repeated.

"Me?" She uttered quietly.

"Yes, you." He stated as if it were obvious. "You are the only other person in the room."

"What do I think about what?"

"Which of those do you prefer?" He shifted from his nonchalant stance and put both hands on his hips, but kept his back to her.

She glanced around the room awkwardly, her eyes falling to his desk which was cluttered with papers to the point that you could barely make out the metal inscription on the front of it that read _Arthur Pendragon_. At least she knew she was in the right office.

"Don't just stand there answer me." Arthur commanded abruptly.

"Fine, fine." Gwen bit her lip. "What is this for, Mr. Pendragon?" Propping up her clipboard on her arm and preparing to jot down whatever he needed.

"It's for the header of my 'letter from the editor' column." He explained, finally turning around to face her. "And I can't decide which one to use."

"Which of what?" She asked, still confused.

"Which quote." Arthur groaned and slumped dramatically into his chair. "I wanted to preface my letter with a memorable quote, but none of my favorites seem to fit."

"You have favorite quotes?" Gwen tried not to smile.

Arthur threw his head back and spun around in his chair, throwing his hands up in irritation. "Of course I have favorite quotes. I started memorizing quotes when I was eight, I just can't think of any good ones to put before my letter to the readers."

"Well, what is your letter about? Maybe that will help you decide." Gwen suggested.

"If I knew that, then I wouldn't need your help now would I?" Arthur sighed theatrically and lifted his head, looking up at her with absolute helplessness.

"Help me." He begged.

Gwen almost laughed at the way this man was staring at her. He was practically groveling. "Fine," She replied eventually. "I like the one about being bold."

"'Freedom lies in being bold?'" Arthur asked, his eyes searching her with curiosity.

"Yes."

"I think I'm going to go with 'What ever you are, be a good one.'" He concluded. "Because, I am a good one… A good editor that is."

Gwen frowned. Why had he bothered asking her help if had already made up his mind?

"Who are you anyway?"

She straitened, rolled her shoulders back and smiled professionally. "My name is Gwen Degrance, and I am your temporary-."

"Oh yes of course." Arthur immediately cut her off. "I forgot that you were starting today. Lovely. How is your first day going so far?"

"I've worked for Pendragon for two months." She deadpanned.

"Oh well, in that case, you may as well just get to work." He pulled from his desk, not a piece of paper, but a napkin, and handed to her. "These are all the things we need to get done today." He explained, then turned to his computer screen and began typing furiously.

Gwen stared in incredulously at the paper napkin in her hand. "Mr. Pendragon…" She said slowly.

He looked up, surprise washing over his face as if he had forgotten she was there. "Yes?"

"Do you perhaps have this list on something other than-? Well, a napkin?"

He gazed at her as if her question was completely ridiculous.

She hesitated before continuing. "Because, well, this seems like it might rip easily and it's a bit hard to read and well…"

"If that medium doesn't satisfy you, feel free to rewrite it on that little note pad you have there." Arthur waved his hand dismissively. "Now, off with you. I've got work to do and you'd better start on that list. You're not leaving today until you do."

Her gawked at him, his rude tone resonating with her in a way that she found utterly unappealing. "Very well, Mr. Pendragon. But before I start on this list, I have to get Miss Morgan her coffee."

"Oh that's brilliant!" Arthur slammed his hands on the desk, completely ignoring her and losing himself in his work. She was about to turn and leave when he called "Could you get me a cup of coffee as well, Gwen?"

"Certainly." She forced smile.

"Lovely." He turned back to his work.

She stood there for a moment expecting a thank you. Upon realizing it wasn't coming, she merely sighed audibly and left. Immediately upon exiting the office however, she remembered that she had absolutely no idea where the coffee in in this building was.

She poked her head back in the door. "Where is this coffee station exactly? What floor?" She asked cautiously.

Arthur looked up, visibly irritated by her interruption. "Second floor, where all the food is." He didn't speak another word to her.

This time she was eager to be out of his sight. She shut the door behind her and practically stormed over to the elevator.

_**Alright, there you have it. What did you all think of my portrayal of Morgana and Arthur? Also, if ya'll have any ideas for how I should continue. I have a rough idea of where this story is going but I am always willing to make small changes to my plan.**_

_**Thanks for reviewing! Keep doing it! :)))))))**_


	3. Chapter 3- Lost in Translation

_**Hey y'all. Like I know this story isn't getting that much hype, but it's so easy to write I honestly don't care what kind a response it gets. I've never had this much ease writing a fanfiction before I don't think. Sigh. Merlin will do that to ya, I suppose.**_

**_Anyway, in this chapter we get some more of mourning Guinevere, the introduction of a new character who may (or may not) be important later on ;). In modern day we have some more Merlin/Gwen humor and maybe a little bit of not so funny stuff. You'll see :)))_**

**C****amelot – Sometime around 500 AD**

Guinevere set the crown from her head in its designated spot, a wooden safe next to her wardrobe.

It had been a few hours since Merlin's return, and she hadn't even had time to properly talk with him aside from the brief moment they'd had before Gaius had ripped him away from her and dragged him off to the infirmary. It was not that late, she probably should have stayed up longer and finished working on a trade agreement, but she was exhausted from the trials of the day.

She closed the door and fumbled with the large ring of keys, trying to remember which key was for the safe. He had always made it look so easy, she never imagined how many keys he had been forced to carry, how many doors only he could unlock, how many burdens he alone had to bear.

She gritted her teeth, her hands trembling as she tried key after key in the safe's lock, none of them seemed to be working. Nothing seemed to be working for her, she sighed and shook her head.

She seemed to be perpetually tired. The past days, no weeks, had drained every bit of energy straight out of her. But as much as she wanted to curl up into a ball and close eyes and imagine him there comforting her, telling her everything would be okay, she couldn't. She had responsibilities, duties, and people expecting her to pull it together for the sake of the kingdom.

When another key failed her, she opened the door to the safe and slammed it shut. "Why aren't you working?" She shouted, glaring at the ring of keys in her hand. She felt her face growing hot with anger.

Every bone in her body ached from her long day, from ceremonies, banquets, and tournaments, all in her honor. Why were they celebrating? She didn't see the point behind any of it. Finally she gave up on the lock. Her chambers were heavily guarded at night, no one would dare try and steal the crown. Even if they did, she wouldn't particularly care.

"Your Majesty is everything-?" Her newly appointed servant poked a head in the door, but stopped half way through her question as if the answer was already apparent.

Guinevere suddenly realized that her checks were wet and her eyes were stinging from tears. "I-. I'm fine I just can't get the lock on this bloody safe to work."

The flinched slightly at the less-then-regal tone, merely bowing her head. "Might I be of assistance?"

"Good luck." The queen sniffled and tossed the ring of keys in the servant's direction.

The girl succeeded in locking the safe with ease. "There we are." She turned around and smiled lightly, hoping her actions would cheer the queen up.

"Thank you Elizabeth." Guinevere nodded her head gratefully.

"You're welcome your majesty." Came a meager reply and the servant turned to leave.

A few moments of awkwardness followed in which Elizabeth merely stood staring expectantly at the queen. When Guinevere didn't speak the young girl tried to break the silence.

"Shall I assist you in getting ready for bed?" She asked cautiously.

"Yes, thank you." Guinevere sighed and nodded. "This corset is driving me insane." She muttered turning around and allowing Elizabeth to carefully begin unlacing the back of her dress. "It's far too tight."

The servant laughed. "That is sort of the point." She commented lightly.

Guinevere chuckled and smiled. "Oh god," Her smile faded. "This necklace was supposed to go in the safe."

She could hear Elizabeth stifling a laugh.

"Is something funny?"

"No it's just-."

"You know it's alright to laugh at me, don't you?"

Elizabeth unclasped the necklace carefully. "You're the queen. No one laughs at you." She stated.

Guinevere felt a pang of discomfort in her chest. Arthur had never shied away from laughing at her. In fact, he had somewhat reveled in the opportunity to point it out when she made a mistake.

_"__You have to understand Guinevere. Your near-inability to be anything other than absolutely perfect forces me to take advantage of any opportunity I have to tease you."_ He would explain whenever she caught him giggling childishly at her errors. It was sweet of him to say, considering how frequently he caught her making their bed or clearing the table when that wasn't her job anymore.

The queen sighed. "I want us to get along Elizabeth." She told her servant as she wiggled out of the heavy fabric of the gown. "Just because you're my servant doesn't mean we can't be friends."

The young servant sighed, taking the keys from her mistress and unlocking the safe so as to put the necklace inside. "Forgive my disagreement, your majesty, but… isn't that exactly what it means?"

Guinevere pursed her lips. "I would hope not. I was friends with lady Morgana before…" She trailed off, the memory of her friend's betrayal still pained her even after all this time.

"I sometimes forget that you were once a servant your majesty."

Guinevere sat on the edge of her bed and allowed Elizabeth to remove her shoes. She knew it was strange, trying to connect with her maid on a personal level. But, was it really wrong for her to crave companionship at such a trying time in her life? She needed a friend, and it sometimes seemed as if Camelot's court was full of ice cold men who didn't care about her for anything more but her positon as queen.

"Ahem, your majesty." Elizabeth said nervously, clearly about to change the subject, as she out the queen's silver slippers in the large wardrobe and hung up her dress. "The gentlemen of the court wanted me to pass some information for you about tomorrow's schedule."

"Yes?" It wasn't unusual for her schedule to be molded to the advantage of the court and Guinevere understood why completely. She was still unexperienced when it came to being queen and honestly appreciated the guidance of the knights and nobles. However, she couldn't deny her slight annoyance whenever they changed things without her permission and she often wished they would allow her to make decisions on her own.

Elizabeth winced even before opening her mouth. "There is a suitor coming to Camelot tomorrow to meet you."

"Already?" Guinevere snapped. "We only just discussed the possibility this afternoon."

The girl shuttered cast her eyes downwards and Guinevere immediately felt guilty.

"I'm sorry Elizabeth." She muttered. "It's not your fault that Camelot needs an heir. If anything it's mine." She sighed and flopped backwards onto the bed.

"It's not your fault that the gentlemen of the court and the Knights of the Round Table are obsessed with rules and custom." Elizabeth seethed, suddenly angry. "They shouldn't be pawning the responsibility of remarrying off on you so soon after Arthur's death."

Guinevere sat up, slightly alarmed and stared at the servant, whose face was now beet red from embarrassment.

"I shouldn't have spoken so frankly about people who are above my station. Forgive me, my lady." Elizabeth bowed hurriedly and rushed out of the room.

"Goodnight, Elizabeth." Called Guinevere.

She glanced around the room. The bed was not ready for her, but she really didn't care. She could ready herself the rest of the way for bed.

As she pulled the covers down, she wondered what she had said that might have triggered her maid's passionate reaction. However, she let the subject leave her mind when a sudden wave of exhaustion hit her like a ton of bricks and her thoughts became only those of sleep. She climbed into bed and shut her eyes; half dreading half fearing the dreams of Arthur that she knew would come.

**London – fall 2012**

"He didn't even have the decency to thank me for helping him." Gwen vented, filling up the two foam coffee mugs in her hands. She looked up to see her friend smiling and shaking her head. "What?"

"You haven't stopped talking about him since you left his office." Elizabeth commented, tucking a strand of blonde hair over her ear and taking a sip of her own latte.

"That's because I can't get over how arrogant he is." She gritted her teeth. "He may be a complete genius, but he's a total idiot."

"You do realize that what you just said makes no sense right?" Her friend replied. "He can't be a genius and an idiot at the same time."

"Yes he can just-." Gwen sighed and pouted. "Just let me be mad okay."

"I think he's gorgeous." Elizabeth smiled and tilted her head to the side.

Gwen scoffed. "That's funny coming from you."

"Hey, hey, hey." Elizabeth said defensively. "Don't devalue my opinion just because I-."

Gwen gave her a look, stirring creamer and sugar into both the cups and putting caps on them.

"Don't look at me like that." The blonde replied, her hands on her hips. "My finding him attractive is, like, the ultimate compliment to him."

"Why?"

"Because I _rarely_ find men attractive." Elizabeth explained as if it were obvious. "And you, my friend, blushing."

Gwen's hands flew to her cheeks self-consciously. She looked up at her friend, who towered over her in several-inched heals, and raised an eyebrow. "Elizabeth, I have a boyfriend."

"Yeah, and?" Her coworker chuckled. "Anyway, we'll talk more about this later, when you give me all of the details. I have to go fax these edits to my supervisor."

"Have fun!" Gwen sighed as she watched her friend disappear. Elizabeth had been her best friend since college, and the reason she got a job at _The Pendragon _in the first place. Honestly, Gwen had to admit that working together in a professional setting had put a bit of a block between the two friends.

Gwen had always been a superstar student, top of the class all through college and grad school. Elizabeth was not as hard of a worker but had somehow managed to climb the corporate ladder using only her charisma to guide her. As proud as she was of her friend, it hurt a little to watch Elizabeth's career flourish as an editor while she was stuck as the assistant.

Gwen shook her head, jolting herself out of her thoughts. It was no use pining over a job she would never have, or at least wouldn't have for a while.

She left the cafeteria and was walking towards the elevator, when someone coming in the other direction and high speed ran straight into her, knocking both the mugs in her hand to the ground.

"Shit shit shit shit shit." She muttered, bending down and picking up the cups. "God next time watch where you're going." She said curtly, looking at the feet of the man who had run into her. He wasn't even bothering to help her. She groaned and looked up and him.

She just about had a heart attack. Gazing down at her was the same bearded man who had stopped her on the street. She jumped up and away from him.

She considered screaming but realized that she was in a hallway full of people bustling to and from the cafeteria, and that her interaction with this man looked completely ordinary, especially considering, as she now noticed, that he was wearing a janitor's uniform.

"What?" He asked, obviously aware of her fearful expression. "Do I smell or something?" He nonchalantly lifted up his arm pits and gave them a good sniff. "Not any worse than usual." He commented to himself before looking at her expectantly.

She didn't really know what to say, so she uttered the first words that popped into her head. "Who the hell are you?" She whimpered.

This time it was the elders turn to look surprised. He frowned contemplatively and crossed his arms. "'Who the hell are you?'" He repeated, his voice going up a few octaves to mock her properly, his face nose scrunching up as if he's smelled a skunk. "Who the hell am I? I can't believe you even need to ask that. I may have aged a bit over the years but that's no excuse not to recognize me, Gwen, it really isn't."

Gwen just stared at him in shock, her mouth gaping, unable to speak. The traffic in the hallway had died down and now they were pretty much alone, aside from the occasional man in a suit who would walk by.

"Wait." The man scrunched his eyebrows. "You really don't know who I am do you?"

She shook her head in reply, still failing to form words. Why would she know him?

His face fell. "What about Arthur?" He asked after a brief stretch of silence.

Gwen tilted her head. "Arthur? Do you mean Arthur Pendragon?"

His eyes lit up. "Yes, yes, yes! So you two are together?"

"No, no, oh god no." She asserted a little too quickly for her liking. "He's just a-. I hardly know him. He's my boss. Not even that, my boss's boss." The stranger raised an eyebrow somewhat skeptically. "I have a boyfriend." She told him as if that would somehow convince him.

"Oh." The light in his eyes disappeared.

She suddenly became aware of who she was talking to. "Why am I telling you this?" She questioned irritably, partially to him partially to herself. "It's none of your business I don't even know you." So, why had she suddenly been so open with him? She groaned. Why wouldn't this stranger just leave her alone?

As if he could read her mind, he replied. "I'll leave you alone if you take me out to dinner."

"What?" She snapped. "Are you hitting on me, you pervert?"

The man shook his head very enthusiastically. "No, no, of course not Gwen I would never. I mean, you?" He scrunched his face up again, as if he had tasted something bad. "That's just-. No, never. I just want a chance to explain to you-."

"Fine." She cut him off, slightly offended by his reaction to the idea of pursuing her but not enough to linger on it. She didn't have time for this. She had two huge lists of tasks she needed to get started on. "If I have dinner with you, will you leave me alone?"

"You have my word." A smile spread across his face. "I'll pay."

"You better." She muttered under her breath.

The man walked over to the elevator. "I'll wait for you outside until you're done with work." He said, pressing the down button.

Gwen frowned. "Wait… Don't you work here?" She asked, confused.

The elevator doors opened and he stepped inside. "Nope." He replied, winking as the doors shut.

Gwen stared down at the mess of coffee covering the floor and sighed. She went to the bathroom to get paper towels.

-o-

"Listen babe, I know we were supposed to have lunch today," She said into the phone, scratching _'organize file cabinet'_ off of Morgan's list. She turned to Arthur's napkin list and read _'print out coloring page of Roger Rabbit'_. She rolled her eyes and set her pen down. "But I'm totally swamped at work. I can't leave."

Matt groaned and whined, "But we were gonna get sushi."

"Well, _J & Y_ isn't going anywhere." She supplied. "We can always go another day."

"Tomorrow?" He asked hopefully.

"Well, here's the thing." She bit her lip, feeling guilty. "I have double the work load this week because Morgan's got me assisting one of the other editors with his work. It looks like I'm going to be eating at the office for the next few days."

She heard an audible breathe from the other end. "They overwork you babe, you know that right?"

She sighed. "I know."

"Then why do you keep putting yourself through this."

"Because I love my job." She insisted. This was a reoccurring conversation for them. "Or at least, I love the product of my job. I love that people get to-."

"-Learn about and understand the world because of what you do." Matt finished for her, a slight mockery lacing his tone. "Whatever floats your boat Gwen."

She didn't say anything, slightly irritated by his making fun of her passion.

"Gwen?"

She chose not to reply.

"Gwen don't be mad. You have to understand that it's hard for me never seeing you."

She closed her eyes. "I do." She replied softly. "I miss you too."

"Why don't you come over to my place tonight?" He was clearly trying to make it up to her.

She smiled. The thought of the man barely crossed her mind as she quickly responded "Yes, that sounds great." She was fairly certain the man wouldn't be waiting for her anyway.

"Woo hoo, finally!" Matt cheered. "And maybe you can, ahem, spend the night."

She knew what he was implying, and part of her wanted to, but she also knew that waking up at 4 in the morning was not his style. She didn't say that, instead offering him a vague and suggestive, "Maybe."

She could hear him licking his lips through the receiver and chuckled. "I look forward to it."

"Okay, good bye Matt."

"Bye Gwen, I love you."

For some reason, she couldn't bring herself to say it back. She wasn't quite at that point yet. "Okay, bye." She quickly hung up before an awkward silence could ruin their conversation.

She set her phone down, and noticed the shadow of a figure standing behind her. She looked up from her desk to see, to her dismay, Arthur Pendragon tapping his foot and watching her intently.

"What?" She asked curtly.

"I was wondering if you have that coloring page for me yet." He inquired, crossing his arms.

"You came all the way down here to ask if I had printed out a coloring page?" She turned back to her papers.

"Yes." He replied. "The coloring page is very important. I need it within the hour." With that he turned and walked away.

"Wait, Mr. Pendragon." Gwen jumped up and followed him. "I have quite a lot of important things that Morgan needs me to get done before I take lunch. It's almost 11:30, and I am not even three quarters of the way finished."

"So?" Arthur pressed the button on the elevator, completely oblivious to what she was implying.

"So-." She stopped herself. She needed to be careful what she said around this man. "So nothing." She smiled politely.

"Excellent." Arthur smiled, a genuinely excited smile. "I think we'll work splendidly together Gwen."

His compliment – if you could call it that – coupled with his informal use of her first name and his bright smile had her a bit speechless and she couldn't help but grin back.

"Oh, and," His smile grew, his eyes lighting up. "I hope you don't have plans tonight because you'll be working late. I have a skype meeting tonight at 6 and I need a scribe."

The corners of her mouth dropped immediately.

"In fact, better not make any plans for the rest of the week just to be safe. I have a ton of work to do, considering my father is on leave this week, and I am going to need your help." He continued to beam childishly at her as he stepped into the elevator and the doors closed. "Make sure you get me that coloring page."

"But I don't get-." She started but before he disappeared. "Paid for over time…" She finished sadly.

She slumped over to her desk, turned on her computer and began googling coloring pages of Roger Rabbit, trying not to imagine what purpose Arthur would have for a picture of a cartoon bunny wearing overalls.

-o-

She stumbled out of the glass front door at 9:00 that night, pulling her phone out of her pocket and dialing Matt's number.

_"__Hey you've reached Matt. I can't answer the phone right now. I literally never listen to voicemails so if you actually have something important to say, text me and I'll call you back."_

Gwen sighed, hung up and let her arm fall to her side. She had told Matt that she would be late, and he had asked her to call him when she finished. He had also informed her that if he didn't answer he was probably either sleeping or deeply involved in a video chat with his friends from high school – he was a bit younger than her and had just finished his bachelors – and that she should just not bother coming over.

So much for a nice night together. Gwen stepped forward and started to hail a cab, when someone tapped her on the shoulder.

"Oh, great, it's you again." She frowned when she saw the now familiar wrinkled face.

"Don't act so happy to see me." The man quipped sarcastically.

Gwen couldn't help but laugh. She was exhausted, and being tired made her slightly giddy and easily amused.

The man smiled.

"You never told me your name."

He hesitated, obviously contemplating whether to share the information with her.

"Come on, you know my name and I didn't even tell it to you." They began walking down the street. She was starting to feel less afraid. This man, despite his oddities, seemed to be kind hearted. And the look on his face earlier in the day when he realized she didn't know him had softened her a bit. Perhaps this was just an old man who needed help, and maybe she was just the person to give it to him.

He scrunched his face up again.

"What's the matter?" She nudged him playfully as they walked. "Hasn't anyone ever asked you your name before?"

The man shrugged. "It's been a long time." He replied whistfully.

"Oh." Gwen suddenly felt awkward again.

"John." He said suddenly. "Call me John."

"John?" She knew from the way the words left his lips that he was lying, but decided to let it go. "John it is." Some people rely on their secrets and this man seemed to have some. "Where do you want to eat John?"

He tugged at his beard and smiled. "McDonalds." He concluded.

"McDonalds?" She asked incredulously. "Are you kidding?"

"I don't joke about fast food Gwen."

She couldn't help but tense up when he used her name. "Fine, McDonalds it is." She shrugged. At least this way, being as she wasn't really hungry, she could just get a drink and he could get whatever food he wanted.

They arrived at McDonalds, stood in line and ordered their food, Gwen slightly surprised when her strange companion ordered a happy meal. While they waited and once they got their food, John eagerly told her about his adventures. He was an old man, and she had to admit that while they way they had met had been unconventional, she was very intrigued by the fascinating stories of his life.

"When I returned from the war, the town was gone. One of the air raids took it out." He said solemnly, taking a bite out of his burger. "Most of the soldiers I returned home with couldn't bear to stay there, but I couldn't bear to leave."

Gwen took a sip of her iced tea and leaned in, fascinated by his story.

John shook his head and sighed. "I can understand why they left, honestly. Those boys had lost everything. A home isn't a home anymore when the people who made it that way are gone." He gazed sadly into her eyes, and she felt deep sympathy for him. "It's just not the same without those you love." He whispered sadly.

"Then why'd you stay?" Gwen inquired, not meaning to be insensitive. She had gradually become very intrigued by this man.

The men wiped his eye and she realized he had been crying. "I'll tell you some other time." He smiled faintly. He pulled out the toy from his McDonalds box. "This is why I wanted to come here." He muttered.

Gwen squinted at the plastic wrapped toy. It was an action figure, she wasn't sure what it was supposed to be.

"The theme this month is Arthurian legend." John explained.

"Why is that so important?" She asked.

Pain filled his eyes again as he handed her the doll. He neglected to answer her question, offering only a gentle. "You keep it." He placed it in her open palm and his hand lingered.

It was funny, though, this time she didn't feel so inclined to pull away.

She glanced down at the piece of plastic. "Queen Guinevere." She noted, reading the label. "Cute."

John nodded, finished his last French fry and stood up. "That'll be all Gwen." He nodded approvingly.

"Wait!" She jumped up and followed him as he deposited his tray in the proper place. "What about the town? How did you rebuild it? How could you stay there if all your family was gone?"

John turned and watched her curiously. "Oh, I lost my family long before the war Gwen." He told her, before departing through the swinging door.

She swallowed, not quite sure if she should follow him or not.

"Vrrrroooom vroom!" A small child collided with her back. She looked down and saw he was driving a toy racecar through the air. "Vrooooo-."

"Xander be careful!" Scolded his mother, scooping up her child and glaring at him. She turned to Gwen and smiled apologetically. "So sorry. He gets a little overly excited with the happy meal prizes, especially when they have wheels."

Gwen chuckled and waved it off, and the mother and son left.

Wait. Gwen paused. A racecar? She glanced down at the figurine in her hand. It didn't make any sense, if the happy meal prize was a race car then how-.

Gwen rushed out into the crisp autumn air and glanced around for the elderly man, but the white beard was nowhere in sight.

-o-

Somewhere on the outskirts of London, a hooded man growled as he stared in the smudged mirror in his hands. He watched as the young curly haired woman studied the piece of plastic with curiosity.

He snarled and threw the mirror to the ground, letting it shatter into tiny pieces.

_**Okay so Merlin was a bit absent from the Camelot part of it. Boo! But hopefully - maybe not in the next chapter - but in the one after that, he will become muy importante.**_

_**Question para ti (for you):**_

_**So I am realizing that these chapters are getting progressively longer and i'm not sure how I feel about that. Would you prefer shorter chapters or do you like them long? If i were to make them shorter each chapter would switch back and forth between the two locations/time periods.**_

_**Who do you think this crazy guy is? I know what he is and what his purpose is but I haven't decided if I want him to be just some weirdo no one's ever met or a character who is in their lives and turns out to be rogue.**_

_**How would you feel about Morgana having magic in today's world? I've actually kind of already made a decision about this but am open to changing my mind.**_

_**Like, if you don't feel like answering the questions that's super duper fine. It cool. But i dunno, I like to know what you guys think will happen. Because I already know what is going to happen... more or less.**_

_**Also, let me personally apologize on my own behalf for the Spanish.**_


	4. Chapter 4- First to Remember

_**Phew! *Wipes sweat off brow* That was a long one. 5,133 words. Dayum. Okay, so I was overjoyed by the enthusiastic response to the last chapter! Yay! You all are wonderful.**_

**_In Camelot in this chapter Guinevere tackles the challenge of blind dating with men set up for her by the french court (it's slightly comedic to give us a break from her sucky life). Meanwhile (well, not meanwhile exactly but many many many years later) Gwen and Arthur bond, we have the revelation of another key character from the legend in the modern world, and it seems as though the past may be bleeding through for one of the characters. _**

**Camelot**

She woke up in the middle of the night with a throbbing head ache and tears streaming down her cheeks. She bolted straight up into a sitting position, her breath rugged and her chest tight, her stomach churning from a dream she didn't remember. She swallowed hard enough to keep from throwing up and lay back in the bed. This time though, she was unable to close her eyes. She just stared at the ceiling, afraid to fall back asleep.

-o-

"So I jumped on him from behind." The man across the table from her stood up excitedly as he neared what was apparently the climax of his story. "And shoved my sword into his back."

"Sir Palinor is a mighty warrior, your majesty." Leon forced a smile. He was sitting next to the noble, trying to encourage the queen's affections.

Guinevere was having none of it. She started to open her mouth when-.

"And when I pulled the sword out, covered in blood and guts," Sir Palinor sat down and continued eating a large turkey leg, oblivious to the queen's wince at his gory discription. "He fell to the ground, dead as a doorknob." He leaned back in his chair, having finished both his meal and his tale, much to Guinevere's relief.

The man was one of Arthur's cousins, she had been told. She barely believed it, considering he bore so little resemblance to her late husband. He was rather rotund, with an untamed beard and hair that was greying at the tips. She could not picture herself with this man at all.

She glared at Leon, half angry and half disgusted.

"And the city was saved." Leon added, furrowing his eyebrows in slight defeat.

Palinor nodded proudly, still chewing.

"If you are such a valiant fighter," Guinevere inquired, "And are of noble blood, why do you not become a knight?"

"Because," He ran a finger over the left over sauce on his plate "I wouldn't want to die in battle, now would I?" He shrugged, "Arthur – may he rest in peace – may have been as noble as they come but he was a damn fool if you ask me." He sucked on his finger.

Leon choked on his food, sputtering and coughing.

Guinevere just pushed her plate away, her appetite having deserted her.

-o-

The sounds of horse's hooves on the dirt was soothing for Guinevere. She had to admit she had missed riding. She kicked her heels into the horse's sides and moved into a trot.

"Wait up, your majesty!" Called her riding companion, as he fumbled with the reins, clearly completely incompetent when it came to horses.

"Sir Gareth, if you don't know how to ride then why did you suggest this in the first place?" She chided, pulling back and waiting for him to catch up. She glanced over at him, taking in his shaggy blonde hair and blue eyes. Aside from the fact that he was completely clumsy, so far he had reminded her a bit of-.

"I-. Er-." He mumbled, jarring her from her thoughts, leaning forward and clinging to the saddle with one hand. "I was told that you enjoy riding and, I mistakenly thought it wouldn't be difficult to learn- oof." His face morphed with fear as the horse unexpectedly broke into a canter, speeding down the path.

Guinevere quickly sped up and grabbed the reins of Gareth's horse, causing it to slow down.

Gareth rested his hand over his heart, clearly not quite recovered.

"Would you like to dismount and walk a bit?" The queen suggested. "I know a lovely spot down by the stream with a fantastic view."

The nobleman breathed a sigh of relief and nodded.

"It was sweet of you to try riding for me." She smiled gently at him as she helped him off his horse. To her alarm he was shaking.

"There's a first time for everything." He attempted to return the smile, but managed only a weak grimace.

"Are you alright?"

He took a deep breath and let it out, shaking his head quickly then opening his eyes and nodding. "Yes, I'm perfectly fine."

"Are you sure?"

"What is this spot by the river you were telling me about?"

After tying up their horses, she led them off the path down to where the stream curved in such a way that it made a stunning little alcove. Wild flowers bloomed and the sun peaked through the trees.

"This is lovely." Gareth marveled. "Better than any of the scenery in my homeland."

Guinevere grinned. "When I was younger, back when I was a blacksmiths daughter, I used to come down here and-."

"For you." Gareth cut her off, holding out to her a small stem of lavender colored wild flowers. "To apologize."

Her heart leaped in memory of Arthur giving her the very same wildflowers when he apologized for-.

"This has been nice." He said, placing the flowers in her hands, and turning to admire the scenery.

But the moment was ruined for her, she averted her eyes from Gareth knowing that if she looked at him again all she would be able to see would be Arthur. She sighed.

"It's quite romantic." He commented, and she noticed his voice cracking. She looked up to see he was crying.

"Are you-?" She started to ask in alarm.

"Oh god I'm such a fool, I thought I could move on from her but I can't." He muttered, walking over to the edge of the water. "I love her."

"I'm sorry am I missing something."

Gareth let out a mangled sob.

"Maybe we should go."

-o-

"I present to you, my sons, Balan and Balin." The lord stood before her, pushing his two sons towards her with force.

They looked to be about seventeen, much younger than her.

"Take your pick." Their father prodded her.

She glanced back and forth between them. They were completely identical, short, slick brown hair, and chocolate eyes. They kind of reminded her of puppies.

"You're majesty," One of them stepped forward, bowing. "I would be honored and humbled if you would chose me as your husband. You may be the most stunning woman I have ever laid eyes on."

He was knocked out of the way by his twin, who bowed as well and said. "I would give my life up for you a million times if it meant that I could spend the rest of my days by your side."

Guinevere's eyes widened in alarm.

"Balan, that was my line." His brother shoved him and then turned, smiling, to the queen. "I would gladly abandon my family for you, your majesty."

"As would I." The one called Balan came back and pushed his twin so hard he fell to the ground. "What does it matter that I stole your line? She's going to choose me anyway."

"Not if I can help it."

"I'm the oldest."

"By a few minutes."

"Mentally I'm far more mature than you. And I'm better with a sword."

"Do you mean to challenge me, brother?"

"Maybe I do." He threw the cuff off of his armor.

Guinevere gasped as the other brother picked it up. "Gentlemen this is unnecessary." She tried to say.

"I will fight for you." They both said at the same time.

She slapped her hand to her forehead and sighed.

-o-

"Marry me." He proclaimed loudly, jumping off of his horse and rushing over to her.

Guinevere swallowed and backed away, trying not to be impolite. "Sir Tuquine, is it?" She asked, subtly trying to hint at the fact that they had only just met. In fact, they hadn't exchanged a single word until this moment.

"I don't care, your majesty I wish you to be mine."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "You wish _me_ to be _yours_." It was an odd way for him to praise a proposal that would, hypothetically, lead a mutual agreement that would benefit them both.

"You will learn to love me." Turquine moved to wrap his arms around her and whispered seductively in her ear. "I am a master in the bedroom."

"Guards!" She shouted.

-o-

It was a beautiful day for a walk in the palace gardens, with the sun bouncing of the colorful array of flowers. Guinevere wasn't thinking about her lovely surroundings. She hadn't slept fully since her nightmare. Despite the fact that she couldn't remember the actual contents of the dream, waking up in shuttering in a cold sweat was not something she was keen on, so she chose not to sleep at all. Or rather, she found herself no longer able to fall into slumber for fear of being jarred awake in such a terrifying way.

She felt numb. Elizabeth, skilled with makeup, had been able to cover up the bags under her eyes quite nicely but that didn't remove the perpetual feeling of being stuck in a void. Merlin had done his best to cheer her up but, really, there was no way he could make her feel better when he was in such a fragile state himself.

"My lady?" Questioned the man walking beside her. His chain mail rattled as he came to a stop. "Do you have something on your mind?"

This suitor business was really starting to take its toll on her. She looked over at her companion. He was tall, well-built and handsome. His short hair rustled in the wind and the sun reflected off his defined jawbone in a way that was quite attractive. He had lasted longer than the others, managing not to disgrace himself in the first few hours after meeting her.

He had been essentially courting her for a few days now, sending her flowers and little gifts that were very sweet.

But, he wasn't Arthur.

"No." She replied, brushing him off like she had all the others. "Listen, Sir M-."

"Your majesty there is really no need for titles here." The knight replied. "You may call me Matthew." He nudged her slightly. "That is, if it suits you."

"And you may call me Gwen-." She paused and reconsidered. "-Ivere. Guinevere." _Gwen_ was a name reserved for those closest to her, of which there were very few left.

"Guinevere is such a beautiful name." Matthew commented. "Almost as beautiful as the woman standing before me."

The queen blushed self-consciously, but felt no racing heart beat or shivers running down her spine. She would probably never have those feelings again. "Thank you, Matthew." It felt odd addressing him so informally, like it had back when she was a servant and would accidentally call the Lady Morgana just Morgana or when she neglected to call the prince sire for the first time. The prince, the king, the husband, the-.

She couldn't rid her mind of him. He was stuck in her brain like a nail in wood, but the truth was she didn't really mind it. Her memories of him were, at times, the only thing that kept her from going completely mad.

"You're doing it again." Her suitor observed. "Thinking."

"How do you know?" She gazed into his dark eyes, trying her hardest to get lost in them the way he seemed to be getting lost in hers.

"When you're thinking, you get this vague look in your eye as if you're somewhere else. And then when you snap out of it you almost look disappointed, as if whatever you were thinking about was more pleasant than reality."

Guinevere's eyes widened. He had just read her so well, it was almost dazzling. No one had ever been able to read her like that, at least not since Arthur passed. "Anything is better than reality." She replied honestly, turning away from him and walking over to a magnolia tree.

"You fascinate me." Matthew said, sitting on the bench beneath the tree. "Sit down won't you?"

Guinevere obeyed. "I've always loved this garden." She gazed up from her seat on the bench, watching the sun peak through between the pinkish petals blooming from the tree. "When I first became queen, this garden was one of the only things that made the palace feel like home." She sighed and breathed in the fresh aroma of the flowers surrounding her, turning back to her companion and adding. "That and Arthur of course."

Matthew was just staring at her, completely enthralled apparently. "My lady-." He stuttered.

The queen furrowed her eyebrow at his sudden nervousness.

"My lady, as you know, the court and my family wish for us to be wed."

Oh, that was the reason for his nervousness. Now knowing where this was going, Guinevere felt her heart begin to race.

"And I understand that you may never love me as you did your late husband." He removed himself from the bench kneeling down and reaching into his pocket.

It took all of her strength not to shake her head violently as he pulled out a gold ring. Suddenly the heat of the day hit her hard and she felt extremely dizzy.

"Would you do me the honor of becom-?"

She gagged, nausea overcoming her.

"Guinevere are you alright?"

She shook her head as darkness clouded her vision. Then it all went black.

**London**

Gwen walked into the office, two coffees in her hands, completely exhausted from being up so late the night before. Needless to say when the elevator stopped on the second floor and Arthur Pendragon joined her, she was less than thrilled.

"Good morning Mr. Pendragon." She said politely.

"Good morning, Gwen. How are you doing today?" He replied cheerily.

"A bit tired." She hinted. "I was here kind of late last night."

He chuckled. "You're a sarcastic one aren't you?" He nudged her in the side.

She thought about telling him how wildly inappropriate it was to nudge your assistants when he turned towards her excitedly.

"I was thinking that for tonight's late stay, we could order take out Chinese food." He suggested, then tilted his head to the side to gage her opinion.

"Tonight's late stay?" She couldn't tell if he was flirting or if he was just extremely nice.

"But of course, there's loads to do." He proclaimed, pressing the button for the floor below hers.

She sighed, having learned in only the course of a day that it was no use arguing with him. He would just brush her off. "Chinese food sounds nice."

"Excellent." He cheered, then noticed the mug in her hand. "Is that for me?" He asked, gesturing to the coffee.

"Um," She hesitated, then reluctantly handed it to him. She hadn't taken any sips so there were no lip stick stains on it, and he was her boss – she didn't want to be rude. "Sure." She finally replied.

"You really are wonderful." He took the coffee out of her hand and sipped it deeply. "Black." He noted.

Suddenly she realized how unlikely it was that Arthur would drink his coffee black. "Sorry I-."

"Wouldn't drink it any other way." He took another long drink.

She cocked her head to the side. He had the same coffee preferences as she did.

He mimicked her look of curiosity and for a moment they both just stood in silence, studying each other. For a fleeting second, his eyes darted to her lips and, to her dismay, Gwen felt her cheeks redden and her heart beat quicken.

"Well, I guess I'll see you tonight, then!" He grinned childishly as the elevator dinged, the door opened and he stepped outside. "Barb come here I have some splendid news to tell you." He rushed away, not even bothering to say goodbye.

Gwen huffed. This was ridiculous. She scolded her racing heart and the electric-magnetic pulse that seemed to now be racing through her veins. He would never be remotely interested in her. It didn't matter how long his eyes lingered on her. Besides he was an arrogant ass and she didn't need another one of those in her list of relationships.

_Anyway_, it didn't even matter remotely what he thought of her because _she had a boyfriend_. A wonderful, supportive, sweet, albeit a bit of a dud in the occupational department – certainly not the assistant CEO of a renowned newspaper – but a lovely man. It had been too long since they had seen each other – that must be why her mind was dallying. She should really text him.

She walked into Morgan's office, intent on dropping off the coffee and going back to her cubicle to text Matt when she looked up and saw that her boss was in quite a state.

Morgan's usually taut appearance seemed to have been thrown to the wind. Her hair, which was usually at least partially pulled back, was falling in straggles around her shoulders and down her back, looking as if it hadn't even been brushed. The dark circles under her eyes plunged down her face like purple bags of sand. She slumped over a piece of paper on her desk.

"Morgan, are you alright?" Gwen asked involuntarily.

Morgan yawned and attempted to roll her eyes, doing so ineffectively because of her exhausted state. "Yes, Gwen I-." She couldn't keep from yawning again. "I'm fine." Gwen watched her stare blankly at the piece of papers on her desk. "I just didn't sleep well last night."

"Me either." Gwen nodded and smiled sympathetically, not really sure what was compelling her to be so kind to her boss. Despite grogginess she was in quite a good mood today. "I got about 5 hours of sleep, maybe less." She chuckled lightly, but Morgan looked unfazed.

"It's not that I didn't go to sleep at a decent time." The editor muttered, running a finger through her hair. "It's that I kept waking up from these horrendous nightmares."

Gwen frowned. "That's unfortunate." She said slowly, not really knowing how else to respond.

Morgan groaned. "And now I have an awful headache." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Well, if there is anything I can do to make your day easier, let me know." Gwen offered.

"Ah, Morgan!" At that moment who else but Arthur should swing his body into the office.

Morgan practically jumped out of her seat and Gwen saw what looked like pure terror fly over her features. Before Arthur noticed, however, she quickly composed herself. "Morning Arthur, you're looking cheery today."

"I was wondering if I could borrow Gwen here for just a moment."

Gwen looked over at the man, who was now leaning nonchalantly on the frame of the door. She noticed for the first time that he wasn't wearing an entire suit. He had on a dress shirt and slacks, but his top wasn't buttoned up all the way and he had no tie or suit jacket. She wrinkled her nose at his unprofessional appearance.

"Sure, fine, just take her away as if you own her." Morgan muttered sarcastically. "It's not as if I need her too."

Gwen tried not to laugh as she looked back and forth between the two editors as they squabbled like siblings. "What did you need Mr. Pendragon?" She asked, when the tension in the air seemed to have built to the point that it could be cut with a knife.

In response, Arthur merely grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her out of the office. She felt her skin tingle where he grabbed her and bit her lip, annoyed at her own involuntary reaction.

He pulled her into a secluded corner of the office complex and pinned her against the wall in a way that made her very uncomfortable. "I need you to do something for me." He whispered to her.

Gwen swallowed hard, painfully aware of how close their faces were. "And what would that be, Mr, Pendragon?"

He leaned closer, much closer – their noses were almost touching. Her breath caught in her throat. "I need you to print me out more coloring pages." He said finally.

"I-. You what?" She asked, snapping to attention but a little caught off guard.

"I need you to print me out more coloring pages." Arthur rolled his eyes and moved away from her. He waved his arm around wildly. "How hard is this for you? Why do you continue to question me?"

"Oh I'm not questioning you Mr. Pendragon, I just-."

"And give me a little more variety this time." He began walking towards the elevator. "Turns out Roger Rabbit is utterly borin."

"Last time you specifically said Roger Rabbit." Gwen pointed out.

"Well, I'm giving you some creative license on this one." He turned and looked at her. "Just no princesses." He became suddenly serious. "Or any girly things."

Gwen tried not to laugh.

"More along the lines of cars and planes and explosions and things of that nature."

"You want me to find a coloring page of an explosion?" Gwen raised an eyebrow.

"Ye-. No." He shook his head. "Just, come up with something." With that he stepped into the elevator. "Have it in my office by eleven." The doors closed.

Gwen sighed and shook her head, realizing that all of her interactions with her temporary boss ended virtually the same way.

-o-

"Here are the notes from the board meeting this morning," Gwen tore a sheet off of her legal bad. "Go ahead and look those over before your publicist calls. He should be calling around 1:30, so you've got plenty of time." She flipped open Morgan's calendar and glanced over it. "Don't forget you have an interview at 4:00 with the author of that book and you're having lunch with your half-sister at noon."

"I can't believe that I have to do an interview." Morgan groaned. "It's been ages since I've actually had to do any field work. And I wish Arthur and his cronies wouldn't pawn things off on me at the last minute, if I had known that I had to look good today I would have well… Looked good today." She sighed and leaned back in her chair. "Thank you Gwen, that'll be all."

Gwen left the office and sat down at her desk, opening Morgan's email and beginning to filter out all of the spam. She glanced over at the clock on her computer and gasped, realizing it was 11:05. Arthur was going to be livid. She grabbed the pile of coloring pages – she had printed them out earlier this morning, but had decided to postpone them in favor of other duties – and darted out of her cubicle. She rushed over to the elevator, and pressed the button several times.

Luckily it dinged moments later and Gwen jumped in, joining a woman and a little boy. She smiled awkwardly at them while they waiting for the elevator and stepped out, practically breaking into a run as she bolted for Mr. Pendragon's office. She threw the door open rather unprofessionally and burst inside.

"I have your coloring pages." She gulped and winced as Arthur turned around from what she figured must be his usual thinking spot – by the window, watching the city below. "We've got some Nascar, some zoo animals, and some super heroes that I threw in just in case."

Arthur smiled gratefully. "Luckily for you, I'm running behind schedule." He noted, eyes rolling up to the clock and then back to her. "And the super heroes are a nice touch. I don't know why I didn't think of that."

Gwen shrugged and looked at the floor. She hesitated before asking, "What do you need them for anyway?"

"A project I'm working on." He brushed her question of with a vague reply. "Now get out so I can get to work."

"Well that was harsh." She muttered under her breath as she headed towards the door.

But when she swung open the door she found the mother and son from the elevator standing outside.

"Oh, sorry, did you have an appointment with Mr. Pendragon?" She asked, immediately going into assistant mode.

"Daddy!" Cried the boy, pushing past her into the room.

Gwen's lips parted in shock as the scrawny, shaggy haired brunette jumped into Arthur's arms.

"Hey buddy, how's it going?" Arthur whirled the boy who was apparently his son in a circle.

"I had no school today." The child replied, giving his father a toothy grin.

Gwen couldn't help but smile at how adorable the pair was. So that was what the coloring pages were for.

"Listen, I gotta run." The woman in the doorway said quickly. "Could he maybe stay with you tonight? I'm having cocktails with some of my coworkers tonight and I'm not sure when I'll be home."

Gwen was barely listening, watching as Arthur kissed his son on the cheek. "Absolutely." He answered, apparently also paying very little attention to the woman who appeared to be his wife.

Wait, he was married. Gwen shook her head, trying to scare off the feelings of disappointment that doubled up inside her.

"Bye."

"Say goodbye to Mommy." Arthur prompted, setting the boy down so that he could run over to his mother and wrap his arms around her.

She kissed him on the cheek and left.

"Do you have more coloring pages?" Arthur's son asked immediately.

"I certainly do." Arthur grabbed the pile of paper from his desk and knelt down. "Look we've got cars, and animals, and superheroes."

"Yay!" The boy cheered. "Who's that lady?" He looked at Gwen, studying her curiously with bright, crystal blue eyes.

Arthur looked up, alarmed, as if his had just noticed her standing there. "This my assistant, Gwen." Arthur informed his son. "She's my assistant. She helped me pick out the coloring pages."

"I'm Drew." The boy walked over to her and extended a hand for her to shake.

"Why hello there, Drew." Gwen bent down to meet his height and shook his hand. "You have a strong handshake." She noted. "You'll make an excellent CEO one day."

"Like my daddy?" Drew beamed, his eyes practically gleamed with excitement.

Gwen giggled. "_Just_ like your daddy." She agreed.

"You're pretty." He looked to be five or six years old, with one missing tooth as he smiled sweetly at her.

She chuckled again, unable to tear her eyes away from his. They were even brighter then Arthur's – not that she had noticed her bosses eyes. "You're quite the gentleman aren't you?" She observed.

Drew nodded, puffing out his chest with pride.

"Thank you." She stood up. "You're quite handsome yourself."

He bit his lip and grinned.

"With this one here, it looks like we won't be staying past seven tonight." Arthur informed her, tearing her away from her interaction with the boy. "And he doesn't really like Chinese food so-."

"If you want to put a rain check on that, that's fine. I had dinner plans anyway." She realized what she had just said was a lie. Why had she said that?

"Oh." Arthur looked at the ground. "Lucky for you that our schedule got interrupted by Drew then." He laughed to himself. "Next time you just tell me and I won't ask you to stay late."

She nodded. "Mr. Pendragon I have quite a bit of work to get done so…" She slowly began edging towards the door.

"Right!" He exclaimed suddenly, grabbing something off his desk. "Can you fax this to my father's vacation home? I want to run it by him before publishing it." He handed her a scrap of paper.

"Certainly Mr. Pendragon." She replied and slid out the door.

-o-

_Dinner tonight? 7:30?_

She asked Matt via text message. She lay her phone on her desk, leaning back in her chair and taking another bite of her Panini. The cheese spilled out of the bread and ran down her chin.

Suddenly she heard a scream from the direction of Morgan's office. She jumped up from her seat and ran over, swinging the door open. She was followed by various other nosy workers.

Morgan was sitting stick straight in her cushioned chair as if she'd just been electrocuted. Her blue eyes were widened like saucers and her breathing was rough and unsteady.

"Morgan, what's wrong?" Gwen entered and closed the door behind her, shutting the blinds so that no one would spy on whatever conversation was coming.

"I was working on an article and I was so tired I fell asleep and-." That look of pure terror had returned to her eyes. "I had another nightmare. It was so strange it felt real I-." She paused and shook her head, furrowing her eyebrows in frustration. "This is ridiculous, I don't know why I'm so shaken by a silly dream." It sounded more like she was trying to convince herself then her secretary. She turned to Gwen, the fear not quite faded from her gaze. "It was just a dream wasn't it?"

Gwen froze, opening and closing her mouth like a fish, at a complete loss for words.

"It was just a dream." Morgan sunk back into her chair breathlessly letting her head fall back completely so that her hair was dangling down the back of her chair.

"Would you like me to clear your schedule for the rest of the day?" Gwen attempted to comfort the woman the only way she knew how to. "You seem like you could use a break."

"I do _not_ need a break." Morgan snapped, shooting a glare at her assistant.

She stepped away, hurt. "I'm sorry I just-."

"No, I'm sorry Gwen." Morgan cut her off quickly, offering an apologetic smile. "Yes. That would be lovely. I would really appreciate your clearing my schedule. I think I'll go home and drink some tea to calm my nerves."

Gwen just nodded, still a bit cautious to respond for fear at being snapped at again.

"Thank you Gwen." The young woman yawned and stood up, beginning to pack up her things.

Gwen left the room, opening Morgan's schedule and slowly going through to see what appointments she could cancel by email and what ones she needed to call in.

She glanced at her cell.

_Sure. Sleep over? ;))_

She chuckled and picked up the office phone, dialing a number.

-o-

From behind a smudged glass window, the hooded man observed a disheveled looking editor stumble out of an office building. He watched as she rubbed her fingers into her temples and almost losing her balance toppling over onto the sidewalk.

The man buckled over and let out an agonizing scream. "No, no, no!" He grimaced as pain spread from his gut through his whole body. "This can't be happening."

"Patience, my friend." A woman's voice echoed from the shadows behind him.

"She can't-." He groaned. "They can't-."

"And they won't." The voice soothed. "We won't let them."

_**Kay, so interestingly enough, not all of Guinevere's suitors were made up characters. Balan and Balin for instance were actual (and I use the word actual delicately because they existed **_**in the legend**_**) twins who accidentally killed each other in a battle. There are other characters you will find actually exist as well, and you can look them up but I warn you:**_

**_Looking up certain characters may give away spoilers._**

**_Did you all get who Drew is supposed to be?_**

**_What do you think Morgana's dreams have to do with the hooded man?_**

**_How do you feel about Arthur's newly discovered baggage?_**

**_Next chapter, Merlin will be back (YAY!) in both universes. Also brace yourself for some serious Arthur/Gwen moments._**

**_Is there anything you all would like to see in the next chapter, or later on in the story?_**


	5. Chapter 5- Amore Muerte

**_I don't know why your reading the AN when you could be reading the story._**

**Camelot**

Somewhere in the forest, beyond the walls of Camelot, a man cried out in pain.

"This wasn't-." He choked out, barely able to manage words. "-Meant to happen."

The walls around his crippled figure were lined with mirrors, crudely cut in jagged shapes, reflecting the darkness onto the man as he shuttered.

"I'm trying!" He cried out – begging, pleading to anyone who would listen. His words were followed shortly after with another glass shattering scream. He doubled over, clutching himself, and his hood fell over his eyes.

-o-

The scent of lavender filled her nose as she regained consciousness. Behind her eyelids, the cogs in her brain slowly began turning and she gradually recalled what had happened.

Proposal, dizziness, nausea, darkness.

Her ears started to register the sounds of voices, worried sounding murmurs. She swallowed and led her eyes flutter open.

"She's awake." Came a familiar voice from a familiar face. "Gaius, she just opened her eyes." Merlin looked utterly relieved. "You had us worried, Gwen." He smiled, letting go of her hand and moving away from the bed so that the physician could properly examine her.

"How are you feeling, your majesty?" Gaius asked, unusually formally.

The queen glanced around and realized that Merlin and Gaius weren't the only people in what she now recognized as her chambers. It was crowded with knights and other people who normally resided in the court. She fought the urge to groan at the sight of them.

On the edge of the crowd of people was Sir Matthew, looking extremely concerned. When she made eye contact with him, he blushed and looked away.

"Better," She replied, propping herself up in bed. She seemed to have spoken to soon because as soon as she lifted her head, a wave of nausea crashed over her and gagged. "Oh god." She muttered.

"Here." Merlin rushed over to her with a basin that she involuntarily spilled the contents of her stomach into. She looked up from the bowl, flushed and sweating, to see many pairs of eyes trained on her.

"I take it back." She mumbled, grimacing as Merlin took the bowl away. "I'm not feeling better."

"I brought you some water." Elizabeth came in the door to the bedroom, a cup in her hand. She rushed over to her mistress's side, pushing assertively through the crowds of men.

Gwen smiled, feeling partially responsible for Elizabeth's new sense of authority. She took the cup from her hand and settled back against the pillows, sipping the water carefully so as not to spur another bout of nausea.

"Gentlemen, your presence is really unnecessary." She finally addressed the people who continued to stare at her.

"We just wish to ensure that you are alright, your majesty." Percival piped up.

She narrowed her eyes seriously and they all immediately go the message, filing out in an orderly fashion. To her relief, Sir Matthew was among them as they left. She sighed deeply once they had all departed.

Silence fell over the three who remained with her in the room – Merlin, Elizabeth and Gaius.

"Well, that was embarrassing." Gwen commented quietly.

Merlin laughed. "In front of all the knights." He shook his head sympathetically.

She giggled, glancing over at Gaius who looked surprisingly solemn. "Gaius what is it?"

"Gwen have you been eating and sleeping properly?" He inquired.

Gwen gulped. "I have." She lied, knowing she was completely transparent.

Gaius raised an eyebrow.

"So maybe I haven't slept as much as I did before Arthur passed and perhaps I've lost my appetite in the last week or so." She admitted. "But it's nothing to worry about. I'll catch up on sleep when the court doesn't have me dashing around meeting noblemen left and right."

The physician shook his head. "Gwen you really need to take better care of yourself."

"And as I just said, I _will_." She informed him. "I just have too many things on my plate right now for things as trivial as sleep and food."

As if on cue, her stomach growled.

"Guinevere, your lack of care for your body is unsafe. For the sake of your health I implore you to-."

"And why is my health so important?" Guinevere snapped, suddenly feeling the weight of the week and the months pressing down on her mind.

"You're Queen Gwen, the kingdom needs you and-."

"The kingdom needs an heir." The queen gritted her teeth. "Which I am clearly incapable of delivering without a husband."

"Gwen-."

"The kingdom needs me to marry a rich noble or a prince and-." Her voice broke with her spirit and she felt a sob escape her lips. The sob elicited another wave of nausea.

Merlin immediately sat down next to her on the bed, rubbing her back as she wretched violently into the bowl.

"Gwen, you can stop worrying about providing an heir." Her friend whispered, his voice soothing her.

Then she realized what he had just said. "What?" She looked up, her tears sticking to her cheeks.

"Tell her Gaius." Merlin grinned like a little boy, taking the bowl away from her and handing it off to Elizabeth.

"Gaius?" She asked, not daring to let her mind wander where it desperately wanted to go.

"I've conducted some routine tests," Gaius began cautiously. "And I want to run some blood samples through the lab to ensure that I'm correct." He hesitated a moment too long.

"You're pregnant Gwen." Merlin said before his guardian could finish.

Guinevere's jaw dropped. She hadn't allowed herself to hope, to fathom, hadn't even considered it.

"I-." She was stunned. She looked to Gaius, who smiled and nodded in confirmation.

"Congratulations!" Merlin was beaming. "Finally something to lighten the mood around here."

Guinevere nodded, still stunned. Her heart was racing again, but this time, it was pounding from excitement. For a moment, she let herself forget about all the complications that she would probably be facing down the road. She was going to have a baby, a son or a daughter on whom she could bestow all of her love. She smiled, trailing a finger over her belly button affectionately, where she knew her dress wouldn't fit in the next few months. She had created something wonderful, a piece of herself and a piece of Arthur fused together into a single being.

Arthur. This child would grow up, never knowing his or her father. Guinevere's smile faded. They would never witness their father's great wisdom or valor. They might be privy to tales of his adventures, or stories of his bravery, but they would never know his heart. And he had had such a good heart, it pained her deeply to know that her son or daughter would never feel their fathers love.

"Gwen," Merlin asked cautiously. "What is it?"

She looked up at him, her eyes glazing over with tears, a mixture of absolute joy and complete despair swirling behind her pupils. She gulped and nodded unconvincingly.

"Can we be alone for a moment?" Merlin gestured for the servant and physician to leave the room.

They obeyed, leaving Guinevere alone with the young warlock.

"What's wrong?" Merlin pushed her sternly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

She closed her eyes and let the tears trickle down her cheeks. "I don't know, Merlin." She murmured.

"You don't know what?" He grabbed her hand and squeezed in reassuringly.

"I don't know," She choked out. "I don't know if I can do this without Arthur." She gazed up at him, her vision blurry and wet.

Merlin just squeezed her hand harder, somehow knowing that there was nothing he could say that would make her feel better. He looked deep into her eyes, and she felt once again like he was reading her mind, her fears, her hopes – her soul – and nodded, as if somehow reassuring her that everything she thought and felt, was completely valid.

And somehow, his sympathy towards her lifted a weight off her shoulders. It didn't remove her fear of the future, but it relieved the pressure she had been feeling to be fearless. He somehow, with a single look, had given her permission to be weak.

He really was wise beyond his years.

She leaned back on her pillows and let the tears fall freely, dripping off of her chin onto the soft layers of fabric surrounding her. She was so worn. Her heart ached more than her bones which were shaking from lack of rest.

As she lie in bed, still clutching her best friends hand as if it were her only life support, she felt sleep waft over her. It wasn't the tired exhaustion she had been experiencing all week due to the threat of nightmares, but a feeling of complete serenity. The lure of peaceful slumber finally coaxed her to rest.

**London**

"No, color in the lines, Drew." Arthur scolded playfully.

"Lines not fun." Drew replied indignantly, scribbling wildly over the page.

Gwen watched silently from the file cabinet where she was sorting a wide array of completely disorganized papers.

"How will you ever succeed in life if you aren't willing to follow the rules?" Arthur asked his son.

She snorted.

The head editor looked up at her, confused. "What?"

"Nothing it's just…" She paused. "That's funny, coming from you."

Arthur scoffed, turning back to where Drew had begun trailing his crayon off the page onto the carpet. "What's that supposed to mean?" He asked, not bothering to interrupt the boy's composition.

"Well, since I've met you, you haven't exactly been following the rules." She gestured around the room at the clutter. She saw the smile on his face fade for a moment and quickly added, "That's a good thing. You aren't confined by the usual methodologies of the business world. You create your own path. I don't think I've ever met anyone quite like you." She caught the corners of her lips turning up in admiration and quickly forced them down.

The man before her blushed and she immediately felt the urge to move away from him and closer to him simultaneously. He seemed unsure of how to respond to her compliment – a thank you would have sufficed, but he seemed virtually incapable of gratitude – so she shrugged and turned back to her work.

She tried not to look up as she heard Drew laugh and Arthur join him. "Daddy needs pretty face." Drew claimed.

"I need what, oh, wait don't." She gritted her teeth and attempted to focus. "Fine, go ahead." There were a few seconds of silence that prompted her to once again lift her eyes away from her duties.

Arthur was on all fours as his son, with his navy blue marker carefully drew something that seemed quite intricate on his face, his forehead no less. Drew looked so determined, Gwen didn't dare interrupt them.

When he was satisfied with his work, he stepped back and smiled, setting down his marker and grinning with pride. "Show your friend." He demanded, tilting his head in Gwen's direction.

Arthur turned around to reveal an adorable marking that had now been inked on his forehead. Right above his eyebrows, he had been adorned with a strange wind like scribble – a triangle with three swirls branching off of it from each point. Gwen couldn't help but laugh.

"Do I look ridiculous?"

"No." Gwen said through her teeth, shaking her head in a way that was entirely unconvincing.

"Oh god I look ridiculous, don't I?" He grimaced, reaching up a hand and fingering the design.

"It's very creative." She supplied, though she knew it didn't help.

"Drew, go to the bathroom right now and bring me back some paper towels." Arthur commanded, standing up from where he kneeled and going back to his desk.

"Vending machine?" Drew asked eagerly.

"Sure you can head over to the vending machine while you're at it." His father sighed and handed him a dollar. "Try to get something healthy."

"Okay, bye daddy." He waved rushing towards the door. He turned to Gwen, who had just finished with the cabinet and was dusting her pants off with her hands. "Bye Guinevere." He flashed her a pearly white smile and dashed off.

When he was gone, Gwen couldn't help but laugh and was soon joined by her superior. "Guinevere?" She asked, slightly caught off guard by the title she had been designated.

Arthur flopped into his chair in defeat, still laughing. "Drew has this game he plays."

"And what game would that be?" Gwen inquired, now curious.

"Well, he's obsessed with the legends of Camelot – you know, King Arthur, Queen Guinevere, Morgana La Fey, Emrys?"

Gwen nodded slowly. This was the second mention of the Arthurian legend she'd been wrapped up in in the last twenty four hours.

Arthur continued. "Well, he likes to assign the characters from the legend to modern day life. I'm King Arthur. My half-sister and your boss Morgan, she's Morgana La Fey. It would be endearing if those two characters weren't complete enemies in the story."

"You do get in some pretty wicked arguments." Gwen commented. "I take it your wife is Queen Guinevere."

"Nope, she doesn't have a character oddly enough." Arthur pondered briefly before adding, "And she's not my wife."

Her heart leaped involuntarily again. "Oh?" She raised an eyebrow. "Yet, you have a son."

Arthur nodded, "Yes, well… Grad school was a time of rebellion for me." He explained. "I was mad about Caroline all through my sophomore and junior year. She was getting her law degree, and I a masters in communications with a focus in journalism. Her father was rich, my father was rich, and we bonded. I thought I was in love with her.

"We were nothing more than friends, despite my not-so-discrete pining over her on a regular basis, until our senior year when we both got really drunk and… Bam! Drew happened. I proposed and we were going to get married before he was born but then she cheated on me a week before the wedding with her once-high school sweetheart. I was devastated. But when I held Drew for the first time, I fell instantly in love with him. And I realized that I had never really loved Caroline, at least not enough to raise a family with her."

Gwen was stunned when he had finished. He had just basically shared his life story with her and, oddly enough, she didn't mind. She barely knew the man yet, somehow, she felt perfectly comfortable with the fact that he had just opened up to her. She wanted to give him something in return, but all she had to offer were the few loose files that she hadn't found a place for. "Here." She stuttered, walking over to him with the manila folders.

He stood up immediately to take them from her, grabbing onto the other end of the stack of folders. Somehow, she thought, currents were traveling all the way from his hand, through the documents between them, into hers. She looked up from the ground to find him staring at her, not in a creepy way, but with a look in his eyes that she had never seen anyone before. Or at least, she had never seen anyone look at _her _that way before. Her words seemed inconveniently lodged in her throat, her hands stubbornly not letting go of the files. Drew had called her Guinevere, which meant that she and Arthur were-.

"Fritos!" They were both immediately jolted away from each other by Drew, who was now dancing around the room enthusiastically waving his bag of chips in the air.

"Did you get paper towels?" Arthur asked, stepping back to his desk with the folder in his hand.

Drew shook his head and offered a toothy smile, popping a corn chip in his mouth.

"I'll get them." Gwen quickly headed for the door, eager to leave. The building was quite empty at this time, around 6:30, giving her the opportunity to fully relax as she walked down the silent hallway. She went into the bathroom and splashed her face with water, looking at her tired eyes and rubbing her temples. She must be so exhausted she was having illusions. That could be the only explanation for her racing heart.

She grabbed some paper towels, wet a few of them and added some soap to one and took a couple dry ones just in case. She wandered back to Arthur's office, determined to control herself.

"Ah, Gwen." He smiled and took one of the towels from her. "You are masterfully efficient."

"Thank you, Mr. Pendragon." She swallowed as he rolled up the sleeves of his button down so as to more efficiently clean the mark off his head. His wrists were strong, defined, not too veiny. God, what was she thinking? She shook her head and watched as he reached up, straining the fabric of his shirt, unintentionally flexing his muscles – she struggled to keep her eyes from bulging – and began wiping with not nearly enough force to get rid of the symbol.

"Is it working?" He asked, grinning hopefully.

Gwen bit her lip and shook her head. Should she help him? It would be entirely unprofessional.

He pouted and rubbed a bit harder, this time on the complete wrong side of his head.

Gwen rolled her eyes, still internally battling over whether to offer her assistance. "You should-." She stopped and couldn't help but laugh as he began daintily dabbing the spot with the towel. "You're doing it wrong, let me help you." The words escaped her mouth before she could wrangle them.

Before she could go back on what she had said, a look of relief spread over his features. "Here." He handed her the towel over his desk and spun his chair to the side.

Gwen walked around his desk and knelt down by his side, holding her breath at their now close proximity. She carefully took the wet towel to the stain and began rubbing, first gently, not wanting to injure him. When she realized she was treating him like a wounded soldier for no reason, she immediately added more elbow-grease.

"Ow," Arthur complained. "What are you trying to do, break skin?"

She rolled her eyes. "It's the only way to get the marker off. Look." She showed him the towel which was now covered in blue ink, then tossed it in the trash and picked up another one.

"Well, you could be a bit gentler." He suggested.

"Do you want the drawing gone or not?" She shot back, rubbing circles over the smudge of navy that was left.

"Touché." He gave in, relaxing a little under her touch, closing his eyes and letting her work.

"There." She said when the stain was gone. "Much better, now I just need to dry it off." She lightly dabbed the spot, which was now a pinkish hue from being scrubbed, then stood up to throw the towels away. In the process of rising, she accidentally brushed her thigh against his knee and was once again thrown off guard by the electric pulse that bolted from the spot where their bodies had met.

She ignored, walking over to the trashcan and dropping the contents of her hands into it.

"Daddy!" Drew cried, climbing into his father's lap. "Say thank you."

She turned around to see a rather stunning sight – Arthur completely tongue tied – and felt a pang of annoyance in remember that this arrogant man was incapable of gratitude.

"Say, thank you _Guinevere_." The boy prompted.

They both laughed and Arthur bowed his head, muttering a barely audible but surprisingly sincere, "Thank you Guinevere."

She shrugged. It was a start.

-o-

She knocked twice, then slowly pushed the door open. "Matt?" She called. "I'm here."

"In the game room, babe."

Gwen sighed, stepping over a pile of recycling by the front door and making her way to the back of the apartment. Matt was sharing a flat with five other people, all of whom were still in grad school. Judging by the lack of noise, the place was empty except for Matt.

It was a large, four room complex, three rooms of which had been equipped with bunk-beds, one which had been turned into a television and gaming room. In Gwen's opinion, Matt was living a life free of responsibility which she saw as slightly immature, but he seemed to love his arrangements. And she wanted him to be happy.

After all his carefree nature had been one of the qualities about him that she was most drawn to when they first met. Before she had moved, she had seen him every day on the bus to work, and found herself slowly growing fonder of the stranger, whom of course she had never spoken to, on the bus – admiring the way he helped people with their luggage, befriended strangers, and one time even made a paper plane for a board looking kid in the seat next to him. It was his lack of inhibition that finally brought them together, when he bravely approached her only a week before her move.

She stepped over some more clutter and walked down to the end of the hallway, and swinging open the door to the game room.

"Oh my god," She said, throwing her hand over her eyes. "What are you doing?" She peered through her fingers then averted her gaze to the floor.

Matt was strewn out across a beanbag chair, completely naked, wearing nothing at all aside from a pillow which was conveniently placed over his-.

"I told the boys that you were coming and they all went out so we could have the place to ourselves." Matt explained, standing up and nearly flashing her.

Gwen blushed deep scarlet at the sight of his bare body – long tanned legs, taught abdomen. She swallowed. "I-." She stuttered, not quite over the shock. "I was not expecting this at all." She finally managed.

He slowly walked over to her and captured her lips with his, dropping the pillow at their feet and pressing up against her. She felt herself starting to give in when her stomach growled, indicating that food had to come before any other activities.

She carefully placed a hand on his chest, pushing him away from her and picking up the pillow from the floor. "Food?" She asked, smiling guiltily.

"But-." He pouted.

"Come on, I haven't eaten in almost eight hours." She patted him on the cheek. "Cover up and meet me in the kitchen."

With that she departed the room, walking down the short hallway into the kitchen. She opened the fridge and was not surprised to find virtually nothing aside from a few measly pieces of fruit and bottles of Gatorade. This was such a masculine house hold. She bent down and began fishing through one of the drawers, hoping to find something worth eating.

"God you look sexy in your work uniform." She felt an arm wrap around her waist and pull her up. "Especially when you bend over like that." His hand traveled down the back of her body and she couldn't keep from squealing a little. She squirmed out of his grasp and saw that he now had a blanket wrapped around his waist.

"And you," She tapped him on the nose, "Look like a man with no food in his house."

Matt shrugged, grabbing her hand off his nose and placing it around his neck. He pulled her closer to him, placing a kiss on her forehead, then her nose, then on her lips. He fervently pushed her backwards so that her back closed the refrigerator and his fingers began wandering treacherously close to her belt buckle.

She turned her head to the side. "Matt, I'm serious."

"So am I." He licked his lips playfully.

"I'm starving."

"So am I." He repeated suggestively.

She groaned and promptly shoved him off of her, grumbling as she opened one of the cabinets and pulled out a pack of Ramen and a pot. She filled the pot with water and set it on the stove.

"Now can I kiss you?" He asked hopefully.

"Yes." She turned around and allowed him to mold his lips onto her own. As she moaned and leaned into him, a very inconvenient thought popped into her brain.

_Arthur._

She abruptly yanked her head away from Matt who raised his eyebrow in confusion. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes, I just-." Why was she at such a loss for words? "I just remembered something from work is all."

"Really?" Matt smiled and took her hand, leading her over to the couch. "Tell me about it. What happened?"

"It was nothing notable." She muttered vaguely, her mind still clinging to thoughts of the blonde man and his gentle smile.

"Well in that case," He leaned forward, trailing his tongue along her neck.

Where were the sparks? All she could feel was a wet slimy thing sliding across her skin. She tried not to wince as his tongue receded and he began sucking gently on her pulse. "Matt, you know I can't be seen at work with a hickey." She told him.

This time he pulled away. "What do you expect from me Gwen?" He sighed and turned, slumping back into the couch. "We haven't seen each other in two weeks."

"I know, and I'm sorry I really am." She meant it. "I don't know what's wrong with me." She did know, and it wasn't a what, it was a who.

"Listen, babe." Matt took her hands and kissed each one, still not causing the thunderbolts that she so longed for to course through her body. "I love you, I really do. You are the first girl I have ever cared about enough to be exclusive with." He admitted. "But, I am a hormonal young man. And as much as I love you, it is hard for me to keep my promise when we're not together for extended periods of time."

Gwen's jaw dropped. Did he really just say that? "Are you saying you cheated on me?"

"No, no, no!" Matt said quickly, cringing. "I would never want to hurt you. I just, two weeks is a long stretch and I don't know how much longer I can last." He laughed, but Gwen didn't find his comment at all amusing.

"Did you just give me an incentive?" She stood up, walking over to the stove, breaking up the noodles and tossing them into the now boiling water. "Matt, we've been together for almost a year, why are you just telling me this now?"

"Because it's never been an issue before." Matt jumped off the couch and followed her, trying to grab her by the shoulder before she shrugged him off. "I take it all back, Gwen. I wouldn't give up what we have for anything."

"By choice, maybe." Gwen ranted. "But, who knows? One day you might not be able to control yourself. After all you are a _hormonal young man_." She stirred the pot, gritting her teeth. "You're not _that_ much younger than me Matt. Just because you act like a child doesn't mean you are one."

"I wouldn't even be feeling this way if you weren't so god damn busy all the time." Matt replied angrily. "Ever since you got that stupid promotion you have no time for me. No wonder we're fighting all the time."

Gwen closed her eyes, and as soon as she did she saw Arthur. Why did this man keep popping up in her thoughts? She quickly opened her eyes and the image disappeared.

"And I do not act like a child."

Gwen laughed, a big mocking laugh that she knew would be hurtful to him but couldn't keep in any longer. "Matt, you totally act like a child. You live in a fucking frat house with six kids you hardly know. This place reeks of marijuana almost ninety percent of the time and you say you don't smoke anymore but sometimes I wonder if you're lying to me.

"You work as a bartender, schmoozing money off of rich business cougars. But know that's not your real job because when you aren't pouring fancy drinks for a living, you're working on your novel which is a _whopping_ twenty pages long even though you've been working on it for two fucking years." She let out a deep breath.

"Well at least I'm not a fake." Matt shot back. "At least I don't pretend to be this down to earth, caring, loving, open minded woman who embraces all different kinds of people and has a huge heart, when really I am a stuck up ladder climber who is ready and willing to let everything go for the sake of one lousy job opportunity."

"_Lousy_?" Gwen fumed. "This is my dream job Matt. If you had any possible way of fathoming what an actually future would look like, you would understand the concept of a dream job."

Matt opened his mouth and closed it suddenly. "I'm sorry, Gwen." He said.

Gwen looked at hm. Her whole body was shaking. "Me too." She breathed.

"I can't say I didn't mean those things I said." He bit his lip. "But they were rude and uncalled for, because as much as they drive me crazy sometimes, I love those things about you. I love that, somehow despite the fact that you clearly are an independent woman who don't need no man, you chose me. I love that you are more mature than anyone I know."

Gwen couldn't help but grin, wrapping her arms around him. "I guess your childishness is endearing."

He chuckled and kissed her gently, his chiseled chest molding against her quite nicely. "I can change Gwen." He whispered onto her lips. "I'll get a real job, actually use my bachelor degree in business management. I'll move out of this shit whole and find a nice apartment where we can live together. I'll change for you."

She pressed her lips against his again, unable to stop herself.

"And one day we'll tell our kids the story of how you made me a better man."

Her heart skipped a beat. Kids? She took a step back, using the excuse of stirring the noodles to really look at him. Matt was tall, tan, unbelievably handsome. She tried with all her heart to imagine two mini Matts, a little boy clinging to the towel around his waist, an even younger girl sitting on his shoulders playing with his hair. For some reason, all she could see was Drew, his piercing blue eyes staring up at her wide and hopeful.

'_Arthur and Guinevere.' _Said a voice in her head and she jumped.

She pushed that thought away, but the truth remained. She couldn't stay with Matt. She cared deeply for him, but they had no future. In that moment she knew. "Listen Matt." She began, taking his hands in hers. "You are probably the best thing that has happened to me since I moved to London." This was going to be harder then she thought, but she knew deep down somewhere in her gut that she was doing the right thing. "You're an amazing person."

"But?" He clearly knew what was coming.

"This-. Us-." She fished around in her mind for the right words. "I don't want you to change for me Matt." She said finally. "You need to find someone who loves you for those flaws, not just in spite of them." She reached up ran a finger down his jaw bone. "She's out there somewhere. But I'm not her."

"What if you are?" Matt asked sincerely.

She shook her head, backing away from him. "I'm not." She turned off the stove and emptied the packet of flavor into the noodles. Her hands were shaking. As much as she knew it was the right thing to do, it hurt to end something that had been such a vital part of her becoming who she was.

"Hey, Gwen?"

"You can have the Ramen." She muttered, feeling tears collect behind her eyelids.

"Gwen." He grabbed her and pulled her into a hug. "You'll always be my first love." He whispered. "Thank you."

She nestled into his arms for a moment before pulling away and feeling as if a weight had been lifted off of her. "I have to go." She wiped her eyes with her fingers and rushed over to the door.

"Bye Gwen." He called.

When she got out of the apartment complex and felt the cold air hit her, she felt a mixture of relief and sorrow wash over her.

"Gwen?"

She looked up to see the familiar white beard and a pair of bright blue eyes gazing over at her. "Oh god, it's you again." She said, her voice cracking and releasing an uninvited sob. "Why do you keep following me?"

"What's wrong Gwen?" He asked, closing the space between them.

"Nothing." She sniffled.

Obviously aware of her lying, he through his arms around her, encasing her in his warmth. It felt comfortable, standing there with the arms of this man who was a stranger wrapped around her. His body relaxed as he hugged her and she got the feeling that he had needed it as much as she had.

When he finally pulled away, she saw his cheeks wet and shining with tears.

"Are you alright?"

"It seems to have been a long day for both of us." John answered. "Pizza?"

"Pizza?" She repeated, confused.

"Would you like to get pizza?" He clarified.

She nodded immediately, remembering her hunger.

He only partially released her, keeping an arm around her as he ushered her to a nearby pizza place.

_**It hurt me to write that bit with Matt and Gwen. I am ready for Arthur and Gwen to be together and know who they are in this story. Unfortunately, it has taken on a bit of a mind of it's own.**_


	6. Chapter 6- Inklings of Truth

**_So I know it's been a while but I am insanely busy at school so it is for good reason. I hope you enjoy this chapter._**

**_This chapter gives some faces to the hooded man's conspirators. It doesn't have any Arthur/Gwen, but it does have some nice Gwen/Merlin moments and some more of the added character, Elizabeth, and some elaboration on the Morgan(a) situation._**

**Camelot**

"I thought Sir Matthew was a suitable candidate." Leon insisted, clearly struggling not to rise from his seat at the round table as his anger built.

"The man is a complete pansy." Maleagent argued, not bothering to restrain himself, standing up in a passionate flourish. "He wouldn't last a day on the throne. Our enemies would tear him apart if the people of Camelot don't beat them too it."

"Then who do you suggest?" Leon crossed his arms and raised his eyebrow. The two knights had been working closely to find the Queen a husband.

Guinevere sat, her head turning back in forth as the two men battled. She had tried to interject early on to announce that she may have possibly found the solution to their problem, but they had briskly brushed her words aside and continued sparring.

"I've said this before and I'll say it again." Maleagent sat down. "Either Sir Turquine or one of the twins will do quite nicely."

"Slight interjection." One of the other knights spoke up and received a glare from both Leon and Maleagent. "The twins recently challenged each other to a duel and were both injured, perhaps fatally. We may want to consider removing them from the mix as they may both be dead with in the week."

The queen's jaw dropped. "Why would they challenge each other?" She asked.

"Because they are strong men." Maleagent quickly informed her. "They fought each other on your behalf. I suggest that you marry the surviving brother, if there is one."

"Don't rule out Matthew because of a childish duel." Leon refuted.

"Gentlemen stop this." Guinevere had finally had enough. "No more blood shall be spilt on my behalf. I refuse to allow it, especially considering that-."

"Forgive us your majesty, but providing a king and by extension an heir to Camelot is of much higher priority than the lives of two young nobles." Leon insisted.

"For once, we agree." Maleagent nodded.

"That's enough." She stood up, silencing them. "There is no longer a pressing need for me to find a husband."

"And why would that be?" One of the knights asked skeptically.

She felt a smile tug at the corners of her lips as she searched for the right words. "The heir to Camelot will be arriving shortly." As soon as the sentence left her mouth, she could tell that it was the wrong one."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Leon asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"Does Arthur have a son?" Percival inquired.

"Not yet." She replied pointedly.

"Wait, do you mean to say that you are…?" Maleagant's jaw dropped.

The queen nodded.

The room immediately erupted into applause. A chorus of "congratulations" filled her ears.

It may have not been the most conventional way to announce it, but at least now they knew and she didn't have to think about it anymore.

"We must organize a celebration on your behalf." Maleagant proclaimed.

"Oh, I don't know." Guinevere bit her lip. "It may be a bit too soon."

"It would give the people hope." Leon supplied.

"I suppose." She muttered, thinking of Arthur. He would want to give the people hope. "If a celebration is what the people of Camelot need, then a celebration there shall be.

"Perhaps there will be an eligible noble at one of the banquets." One of the knight's suggested.

"Surely that's no longer necessary." The queen replied quickly.

Maleagent coughed and the eyes of the table went to him.

Guinevere groaned.

"I agree with the queen on this one." He stated.

Her mouth parted in alarm. "You do?" She stuttered.

"I do." He continued. "Now that there is no longer an urgent need to solidify Camelot's security, the search for a husband can be postponed until you are ready."

"I'm not so sure." Argued the older knight who had spoken earlier, Sir Morholt. He was an older, pale skinned, Irish man, who rarely spoke.

She frowned and placed her hands calmly over her middle, smoothing out the fabric on her dress. Morholt was one of the older of the knights, and his opinion was valued by the others.

"Camelot may be relieved of one of its problems, but an heir does not change that fact that you cannot and should not rule alone." Morholt stated.

"Why not?" Guinevere asked, a bit indignantly.

"Camelot is on the verge of upheaval." Morholt explained. "I do not doubt your ability to guide Camelot safely out of this rough patch, however I believe that you do have a lot on your plate, especially now. Having a king to assist you would considerably lighten your load."

"I don't need to lighten my load." She tried.

Percival bit his lip and said, carefully. "Perhaps it would behoove you to have an open mind to the idea your majesty.

-o-

A horse galloped through the dark forest, veering away from the path. Its hooves clattered across stones as it neared a cave that was even blacker than the woods surrounding it. The rider dismounted, throwing his hood over his head and dropping the reigns of his horse as he swiftly entered the mouth of the cave.

Now he was in darkness, able to see nothing, hear nothing sans the sounds of his own footprints. He kept walking until he suddenly stopped. His cloak rustled as he knelt down and whispered gibberish to the ground at his feet. Suddenly a flame illuminated the cave, its light bouncing off the mirrors that lines the walls and revealing a wide and open space.

For a moment there was stillness, silence, and then the man cringed, clutching his gut. "He-." The man could barely speak. "He's coming." He managed, though apparently that didn't satisfy whoever was torturing him so he added. "I'm sorry."

At that moment the sounds of two horses halting on the dirt outside echoed around him. He sighed as the pain relinquished and stood up straight, collecting himself.

Footsteps preceded two gentlemen emerging from the darkness.

"It took you long enough." The cloaked man gritted his teeth, the hood still casting a shadow over his entire face and all his features.

"There's news," The shorter of the two gentlemen ran a hand over his slimy hair, slicking it back.

"I'm aware." Was the only reply.

"What?" The other man stammered. "How could you-?"

"I know everything, Turquine." The figure stalked over to a corner and stared at his reflection, though his eyes were still covered by the hood. "Everything that ever was, that ever is, and ever will be."

Turquine turned to his companion.

"Maleagant." The cloak whirled as the man turned to face them again. "You must put a stop to this. Arthur Pendragon must not have a decedent."

Maleagant shivered. "The deed has already been done. She's already with child there is nothing I can do."

"Bring her to me." The stranger commanded.

"She's guarded at all times, has protection every moment of the day." Maleagant bit his lips nervously.

"Just do it!" What felt like a choir of voices boomed towards the two gentlemen from what seemed like every corner of the room.

"And I will see what can be done." Finished the hooded man. He turned away and listened to the sounds of the footsteps carrying away his accomplices.

As soon as the beating of hooves indicated the men were gone, he doubled over as another searing pain coursed through his body. He screamed out in agony. "I'll take care of it!"

-o-

"It's ridiculous." Guinevere sighed as she held onto the bed post while Elizabeth tightened her corset. "I have to dance with seven different men at the ball tonight." She sighed and looked in the mirror, her fingers trailing over the lining of the lacey fabric.

"That feels alright my lady?" Elizabeth inquired. "Not too tight? I don't want to squish the baby."

The queen chuckled and inhaled deeply. "Yes, Elizabeth, thank you. I must admit, it is quite a nice change to be able to breathe for a change. One of the upsides to being pregnant I suppose."

Elizabeth laughed as well, taking a deep purple gown out of the closet. Guinevere allowed her maid to slide the dress over her head and zipper it up the back as she continued to stare in the mirror, tilting her head to the side and looking at the almost unnoticeable bulge in the silk. A smile spread across her lips.

"You look lovely." Elizabeth smiled with pride.

"Lovely enough to attract a future king of Camelot?" Guinevere asked sarcastically. "I still can't believe that they are turning the celebration of my future child into another opportunity to marry me off."

"I'm sorry your majesty."

"Please, call me Guinevere." The queen sat down in the chair at her dressing table frowned.

"Really?" The servant's eyes widened in surprise as she began taming the untamable curls.

She nodded easily. "I'm sorry too, Elizabeth." Guinevere pursed her lips. "I just don't understand why it is so absolutely necessary for me to get married."

"Perhaps they don't like that there is a strong, powerful woman on the throne who does not need the help of any man." Elizabeth suggested.

Guinevere allowed herself a smile, but it quickly faded. "And they are just so absolutely thoughtless when picking suitors." She continued venting. "They expect me to choose my future husband from a pack of complete strangers, it's completely insensitive."

Her servant just nodded and continued molding the hair.

She groaned. "If I _ever_ marry again, it will have to be someone I know well enough to care for. Someone I know as well as I know you. I mean we met less than a few weeks ago and I am already closer with you than I am with any of the gentlemen of the court. "

The comb in Elizabeth's hands clanged to the ground, as did a several flowered pins.

"Oh dear, let me help you." The queen got off her chair and bent down to help Elizabeth pick up the fallen items. The poor girl looked as if she'd seen a ghost. "What's wrong are you alright?" She asked, handing her the glass flowers and the comb.

"I-. I-. Um, I didn't mean to drop them I just-." Her lip quivered nervously.

"It's fine." Guinevere placed a hand on the servants shoulder, stroking her gently, but was shrugged away.

"I'm sorry…" She seemed so shaken. "I'm sorry, I-. Here, sit down and I'll finish your hair."

"Alright…" She sat down slowly and allowed the girl to continue working.

When Elizabeth was finished, she stood back and looked the queen up and down.

"You did wonderful." The queen stood up from her seat. "I can't imagine anyone making me feel more beautiful than you do."

"Oh it was easy your majesty." Elizabeth replied. "You are quite stunning." She glanced sheepishly at the floor.

Guinevere tilted her head to the side. "Are you alright, Elizabeth?" She reached out but the servant jumped away from her and walked over to the door.

"I should really go. They'll need my help downstairs." She mumbled, disappearing into the hallway.

-o-

"It's been lovely, your majesty." The seventh handsome stranger she had danced with that night, kissed her hand and parted from her, finally allowing her a chance to catch her breath.

She wandered over to the refreshments table and found Merlin enjoying some sort of vegetable dish.

"You look miserable." He commented when he saw her.

"Thanks," She deadpanned. "That's what I was going for."

"Radiant and motherly," He noted. "But miserable none-the-less."

She tried not to laugh, taking a bite out of some lemon desert cookie and moaning contentedly, licking her lips. "I think I'm going to turn in." She thought aloud.

Merlin scrunched his eyebrows. "But this whole banquet is in your honor. You really can't stand these people that much."

"It's not that." She replied earnestly. "I just… This-." She gestured to her stomach. "And this-." She gazed around the room at the crowds of people. "It's all a lot to take in."

"Would you like me to escort you?" Merlin asked, holding out an arm to her.

She bowed her head, a bit mockingly, and folded her arm into his. "Why thank you, Merlin. That's very kind of you." She nodded politely at Leon, who was dancing with a young woman. He understood and smiled sympathetically giving her permission to leave, as if the queen needed permission to leave her own party.

They walked up the spiraling stair case and down the seemingly never ending hallway. The castle was so large. When she had been working here, it had been different. The corridors and hidden passages had never frightened or confused her because she always knew exactly where she had to be and when she had to be there. When she had become queen, it had taken some time to adjust but she still had a duty to be by Arthur's side. And although that could seem demeaning, she needed his guidance.

In a way she loathed this new freedom and power she had. It is one thing to have influence over the decisions being made, but it was a whole other thing entirely to be the one making the decisions.

Merlin pushed open the door of her bedroom and she found it empty.

"Elizabeth must be working the banquet." Merlin commented. "I should go look for her."

"No don't bother." Guinevere sat on her bed and bent down to slip off her shoes. "She seemed a bit off this morning." She frowned and stood up to put her shoes into the wardrobe. "Merlin will you help me with my zipper?" She asked.

Merlin's eyes widened a bit. "Are you _sure_ you don't want me to go find Elizabeth?" He inquired, clearly embarrassed at the idea of helping her undress.

"I suppose you aren't the best person to assist me." She huffed. "But I really want to give the girl some space."

"I mean, you know I would help you." He muttered. "It isn't that I can't-. I mean, I know how to it's just-. I-."

"I know." The queen sighed. "If someone were to walk in and see you standing behind me unzipping my dress they would definitely get the wrong idea."

"The wrongest possible idea." He added, laughing.

"It's sad really." She noted. "You are my best friend but our relationship is stunted by the fact that you are a man and I a woman. People probably thought that your escorting me to my chambers was something romantic."

Merlin made a gagging noise. "I certainly hope not." He commented.

She chuckled at his features which were now scrunched up in disgust. "Now leave so I can get dressed for bed and go to sleep." She shooed him away playfully and he left, closing the door behind him.

She found herself alone with her thoughts, with the imprints of the hands of the men she had danced with that night linger around her waist. She let out a deep breath, and reached around over her back struggled to grab the zipper, finally catching it and pulling it down. She stepped out of her dress. She hung the dress, her muscle memory kicking in as she smoothed out the wrinkles before placing it inside the wardrobe. The silk felt cool and comfortable against her hands.

She twisted again to untie the loose ribbon of her corset, letting it fall to the floor and bending down to retrieve it and laying it gently in a drawer. She slipped into her night gown, a much loser material, and looked down to her middle. She rested her hand over it and took a deep breathe, feeling it expand. She could barely tell that anything had changed in her, the only noticeable change being the fact that the fabric of her dress was slightly more fitted than it had been before.

Guinevere could still barely believe it. Even after making the announcement to her subjects, even as the words had left her mouth and filled the ears of the people of Camelot, it still didn't feel quite real. What was real was the nausea, the dizziness, the exhaustion and the discomfort which had not improved since she had discovered the cause. She turned sideways and gazed at her profile in the mirror as she struggled to pull the pins out her hair.

The door opened behind her.

"Oh thank goodness," She sighed, backing away from her mirror and wandering back over to the bed, her back still to her servant. "Elizabeth you did such an excellent job taming these curls that I can't quite seem to get them-."

She heard the shattering of glass and seconds later realized her head was throbbing and the room was spinning. She reached up and touched the spot that was stinging with pain. She pulled it away and found blood on her fingers, realizing she had just been hit on the head with a heavy object. Black began to bleed into her vision and she knew she was about to go unconscious. She opened her mouth to scream but a rough glove covered her lips and before she had the chance to squirm away, she disappeared into darkness.

**London**

"It's ridiculous really." Gwen sighed and rested her head in her hands. "My emotions are ridiculous. They don't seem to behave rationally in any situation." She lifted her head to take a large bite of pizza. "I like Matt, I really truly did but-." She chewed and swallowed hard. "There was just something keeping me from him. I don't know how to explain it. Something in me knew that he and I weren't meant to be."

The older man stroked his beard thoughtfully. He twisted his lip, contemplating her situation.

She realized she had basically just poured her heart out to this stranger. Although, was he really a stranger anymore? She had had dinner with him twice, she knew a lot about his life, and now he knew a lot about hers. She would have to start referring to him as her weird homeless friend- no, acquaintance.

"Well," He pondered lightly. "It sounds to me as though you know subconsciously that the right man for you is out there, and that you knew that Matthew wasn't him."

The young woman bit her lip and took a sip of beer. "I just wish there was some way that I could _know_ that the right man is out there, not subconsciously, and that that way I could relax and enjoy my life, knowing that one day I'll meet him."

"Maybe you've already met him." John suggested. "Is there any possibility that you have met your soul mate already?"

"No." Gwen said quickly, fighting to keep her mind from flitting to images of Arthur. "No, no, no, no, no."

"Ah." The man leaned back in his chair and folded his hands over himself, giving her pointed look.

"No I-." She bit her lip. "Let's talk about you. You now know all about my personal life, tell me something about you."

He cast his eyes downward and gulped down some water. "What do you want to know?"

"Well, we can start with your name."

"I already told you." He was a horrible liar. "John."

"Come on, I can see right through you." Gwen pressed. "Why are you so territorial over your name?"

He thought for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing. "I-." He paused. "My name is not very common anymore and I don't want people to get scared off by it." He finally said.

This man was a mystery to her. She studied him for a moment before commenting, "You are a strange man with a long white beard. If that doesn't scare people off your name wont.

The person before, whose name she now knew for sure was not John, chuckled but didn't say anything.

She pestered him again. "So, what is it? I can't know if the name will freak me out unless you tell me."

He smacked his lips together before relinquishing. "Merlin." He looked up at her, clearly trying to gage her reaction.

Scared was not the word she would use to describe the feeling bubbling inside her. Sure, she was a bit caught off guard by the name – it was certainly uncommon – but it certainly didn't scare her. Gwen frowned, chewing on the inside of her lip. However, hearing it, letting it swirl around inside her brain, she felt a strange sense of familiarity. And that was a bit disconcerting.

"See, I told you."

"No!" She jumped in quickly before he could feel any worse. "It's a nice name, Merlin."

His whole body stiffened as soon as his name left her mouth. His lips parted but no words came out.

"I like it. It's… Unconventional." She offered him a gentle smile but he remained unmoving, as if the sound of his name in her voice had somehow frozen him in time. "Are you okay?"

She watched as a solitary tear rolled down his cheek and he slowly shook his head. "I have never been okay." He whispered under his breath, but she still heard him.

She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out.

He sniffled. "All my friends are gone." He confessed. "And it's my own fault."

"Hey, hey, hey." Gwen reached across the table and grabbed his weathered hand. "Not _all_ your friends are gone."

His blue eyes rolled up and met hers.

"I'm here." She told him. "And I'm not going anywhere."

Another tear trickled from his tired eyes. "Thank you, Guinevere." He squeezed her hand.

She furrowed an eyebrow, suddenly realizing how he had just addressed her. "Guinevere?"

"Sorry, you just…" His eyes began darting around, searching for the right words. "You remind me of someone." He concluded.

"Well, my name is Gwen – just Gwen." She clarified cautiously.

"I should go." Merlin stood up abruptly. "Goodbye Gwen."

He was gone before she had the chance to shout after him.

Her mind was left to ponder over the name Guinevere. It seemed to be following her. She frowned, stood up, and left the building.

-o-

"I think it would be really interesting to do an article on PTSD." Gwen explained.

"There have been tons of those." Elizabeth rolled her eyes and bit her finger nail. "You're going to have to go deeper than that before you present it to Morgan."

"No, I mean-." The secretary groaned, clenching her jaw. The idea had come to her when she had been sipping her coffee that morning, mulling over her conversation with Merlin the previous night. "Ugh. I want to do an expose on the remaining PTSD from the World Wars. The people who are still survivors.

"Maybe then didn't die of exposure at first but now they find themselves in a world where all their friends are gone and they have nothing to turn to. This man I met, this man who was essentially homeless – or at least I think he was – he had had such a difficult life, and you could tell he was a trooper and had soldiered on… But he had definitely taken a toll. It would remind people that the past hasn't gone away." She leaned back in her chair, scratching her hairline.

Elizabeth folded her arms over her chest. "That's actually pretty good." She mused. "I might use that…"

Gwen gave her a look. "If you steal my idea I swear I'll-."

Her friend chuckled and nudged her playfully in the shoulder. "Of course not, I would never. That would be a dick move in its finest. I'm no Pendragon."

Gwen opened her mouth to argue that the Pendragons were perfectly not-dickish people.

"So how's Matt?" Elizabeth asked, changing the subject.

Turning to the papers on her desk again, the young assistant shrugged, pursed her lips and uttered as quietly as possible "I broke up with him."

The blonde woman didn't miss a beat. "Thank god it was about time."

"Hey, Matt was a nice guy."

"Maybe but he was also a compete child and was never going to change."

"He said he would change for me."

Elizabeth sighed. "Men never change."

"Oh you _would_ say that." Gwen stood up to walk over to the copy machine with a document in hand.

"Hey!" her friend chased after her. "Don't be mad. Here I'll make it up to you. Let's go out tonight."

Gwen laughed, placing the sheet on the copier. "I don't go out, Elizabeth. You know that."

"Come on, please."

She was about to protest again when a scream came from Morgan's office.

"Morgan!" She shouted, rushing over to the door. "Morgan!" She pulled open the door and Elizabeth followed suit as she rushed inside.

Morgan's eyes were wide with fear as she stared blankly at the wall before her. The bags under her lids were worse than Gwen had ever seen them.

"What's going on Morgan?"

The editor snapped to attention. "I… It's these damn nightmares." She muttered angrily, trying to go back to work. She rubbed her temple with one hand while shuffling through some papers with the other. "I fell asleep again and I had this dream." Her hand tensed and she accidentally ripped one of the papers.

"Do you need help going through all that?" Gwen offered.

Morgan looked up from her desk, her mascara running. "I don't know what's wrong with me Guinevere I just-."

"Guinevere?" Gwen's jaw dropped in alarm and confusion.

"Huh?"

"You just called me Guinevere."

"I did?"

"Yes."

"Oh, well." Morgan was clearly trying to hold back tears and failing. "You remind me of someone, that's all."

"That's what Merlin said!" Gwen snapped, a bit annoyed at how out-of-the-loop she was beginning to feel.

"Merlin?" Morgan's eyes widened even more, if that was possible and suddenly her whole body started shaking. "Merlin's here?"

"You know him?"

"What?" Morgan's expression changed completely.

"You know Merlin?"

"Who's Merlin?"

"You just said-."

"This is ridiculous, Gwen I'm just tired and out of it don't take anything I say to heart." Morgan pulled a flip-open mirror from her desk drawer and began fixing the trails of black that were streaming from her eyes.

"But…" She decided to drop it and let her boss recover without any further interruption.

"You seem like you could use a night out." Elizabeth, who had been leaning on the door frame, finally made her presence known. "Gwen and I are going out tonight you should come."

Morgan thought for a moment and then concluded, "That sounds nice. Thank you for inviting me, I'd love to join you."

Gwen was glaring at her friend. Going out with her boss was not something she found remotely appealing, especially when she didn't even want to go out in the first place. Now that Morgan had agreed to come she couldn't bail any more.

"It's all set then." Elizabeth just smirked and left the room,

-o-

"It was lovely meeting you." The dark handsome man nodded his head and backed away, leaving the three ladies sitting at the bar alone once again.

"That is the fifth man who has hit on you." Gwen informed Elizabeth, who just tossed her hair over her shoulder and laughed. "Why is it that every attractive man ever flocks towards you like a puppy on a leash?"

"They want what they can't have." The blonde shrugged. "Besides, you can't be mad at me. I am not the only one attracting attention." She gestured to Morgan, who was a few feet away from them, stumbling around with a drink in her hand, belting out the lyrics to whatever song the band was playing.

She wore a tight black dress that hugged her body in an almost scandalous fashion. It was strange seeing Morgan outside of the setting of the office, but kind of refreshing at the same time. It reminded Gwen that the woman was only human.

"She looks good." Elizabeth commented.

"_Don't_ get any ideas." Gwen shot back.

Elizabeth feigned hurt. "Who me?" She teased, then her expression became serious. "Honestly I would never date someone I work with."

"Good." Gwen folded her arms over her chest, which felt much too exposed in the low cut red dress that Elizabeth had talked her into wearing.

"But, damn, if I did…" Her friend sighed wistfully and Gwen shoved her in the side. "Ow. That hurt."

"Who me?" Gwen replied, repeating the words from earlier. She swayed a little where she stood, the nights alcohol finally catching up to her.

Elizabeth sipped her cocktail and pouted, turning and walking away, just as Morgan sauntered drunkenly over to them.

"Gwen, Gwen, Gweeeeeeeeeeen!" She snickered, picking up a shot glass from the bar and swallowing it down. "You are the _best_. This was the bestest idea ever."

Gwen reached out and patted the woman on the shoulder. "I try." She attempted not to laugh.

"I can always count on you." Morgan commented, stumbling over her feet as her balance waivered.

"I take it you're feeling better." Gwen raised an eyebrow and held out an arm which her boss used to help regain her footing.

"I am." The words slurred as the rolled of Morgan's tongue. "These bloody dreams will be the death of me."

Gwen frowned. "What exactly are you dreaming?"

"It's not important." Morgan swayed back and forth, her eyes going dark. "It's not important." She repeated vaguely.

"Morgan, are you okay?"

The woman before swirled her drink around in her glass and then lifted her head up and her eyes were brimming with tears.

Gwen grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the crowded bar. Once they were outside she sat down on a bench and asked again, "What have you been dreaming, Morgan?"

Her boss sighed. "I dreamt that-. Oh god this is going to sound so stupid."

"What?"

"I dreamt that I was a sorceress." She finally said.

Gwen tried not to laugh. "A sorceress? You're concerned because you had a dream that you were a witch. That doesn't sound so-."

"That's just it Gwen, it didn't feel like a dream." Morgan blurted earnestly.

Gwen frowned and raised an eyebrow.

"It felt like a memory."

-o-

Across the street from where the two woman sat, a hooded man stood watching them from the shadows.

Angrily, he threw a shard of mirror onto the road before him and slammed his shoe onto it, grinding it into the ground. As the sound of glass on asphalt scraped his ears, there was a loud cry from somewhere nearby, a scream of agony.

The two woman looked around, confused, and then stood up and moved in the direction of the noise.

Under the cover of his hood, the man was smiling.

**_Here is something I haven't decided that I would like opinions on:_**

_**1. Morgan(a): Evil in modern world... or NAW?**_

_**ALSO**_

_**2. What exactly is going to finally bring Gwen and Arthur together?**_

**_Oh kay. I believe that's it. I was overjoyed by the reception of the last chapter. Keep it up! It may be a while before I update again because I am swamped in life right now so._**

**_Bye!_**


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